


hold on, i still want you (come back, i still need you)

by KHart



Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Hanahaki Disease, Mentions of Death, just in case, we don't want anyone to be triggered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-06-13 15:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 69,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHart/pseuds/KHart
Summary: that night—that morning—she threw up the petals of a yellow carnation.and when she was done, she pulled out her phone and googled what the hell that meant, because her brain was just too strained to help her supply it for herself."disappointment and rejection..." she read out loud, scoffing sadly as she lifted her cheek away from the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. "should've known."---Or: The Charlynch Hanahaki Disease Au nobody asked for





	1. breathing out, breathing in (intro)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by the song "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet.
> 
> My Tumblr is flairfatale if any of you are interested in following or talking to me on there.

when the first itch made its presence felt at the back of her throat, Charlotte had thought nothing of it. 

she had been eating breakfast, taking her time and enjoying the quiet of the moment for once.

there was no tension in her shoulders, no tightness in her jaw, no strain in her posture. 

she didn't think she had a reason to worry. 

she simply cleared her throat, drank some water, swallowed around it, and continued with eating. 

it had been five months since her arrival on smackdown. five months since her reunion with Becky. 

everything was going well. 

well, as well as things can go when one is in love with their best friend.

which just sounds inherently bad, but Charlotte had long since come to terms with her feelings. she had long since accepted that Becky was her best friend and only her best friend. 

yeah, sure, it hurt a lot, to see the woman day after day, to know that she could only hold her briefly before letting her go to another. 

yeah, sure, it hurt a lot, to be able to so easily say the right things to soothe the other woman's worries and fears, but to not be able to say how much she meant to her. 

yeah, _sure_ , it hurt, a lot, to feel so strongly for someone that was taken. 

but Charlotte made due with what she got, and, honestly, what she got was the best friend the universe could have ever produced, so she couldn't bring herself to complain.

not really... or at least not ever out loud. 

because she still got to tell Becky she loved her. she still got to wipe away the tears of sadness and laughter that Becky shed. she still got to wrap her arms around Becky sometimes. 

so, Charlotte was pretty content. she told herself so. 

and _that's why_ , it was just very, terribly unfortunate that all of that contentment and acceptance was to be ruined by an _itch_ against the back of her throat. 

which, after a few initial minutes of fading, came back with enough force to make her actually uncomfortable.

she, again, tried to clear her throat, drink some water, swallow around it, but the feeling became too unbearable, and, so, finally, she started to cough, _really cough_ , to try to get it to go away.

that’s when she noticed that it wasn’t just a phantom itch.

her eyebrows knitted together as something shifted against her tonsils. a short sort of stutter of her heart made it feel even harder to catch her breath, as she started to panic a little.

she put some more effort into her cough, and after a few moments, with a final heave of her chest and an abrupt exhalation of air, the mystery object was dislodged.

it fluttered past her lips and onto the wood of the table almost delicately, landing in a semi-puddle of the saliva it was soaked in.

her eyes stared almost unseeingly—almost incomprehensibly—at it for a few seconds, but then that harsh beating of her heart returned, and her breath caught again.

a flower petal…

her fingers shook as she reached to pick it up and rest it in her left palm.

her jaw tightened and then trembled.

a flower petal… that wasn’t even much bigger than her thumbnail.

a single but searing tear leaked onto her cheekbone.

a flower petal that was so small, and, yet, had a significance—an _indication_ —big enough to make her lightheaded.

“oh my god...”

a flower petal.


	2. if we're all gonna die, i wanna die with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from "With You" by Kygo featuring Wrabel

Hanahaki Disease (Noun)- A disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from unrequited (or one-sided) love. It is only truly cured when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear. There’s a possibility of the victim’s ability to feel being lost forever, as well as the memories of the one they loved disappearing.

_\---_

Charlotte’s first and only other encounter with the Hanahaki Disease was when Sasha had endured a brief bout of it during their first year on Raw.

way back when the woman had been far more stressed and tightly-wound, and when she had truly thought that no one would ever really love her back.

and, though their public personalities were feuding in front of the world, it was Charlotte that had been the one to hold Sasha and tell her that it was going to be okay. it was Charlotte that had been the one to convince Sasha to _tell_ the certain “no one” how she felt, for she truly had nothing left to lose but her life.

and, luckily, in this case, no one had equaled Bayley, and in the end, she _did_ reciprocate Sasha’s feelings, so the flowers went away fairly quickly. so quickly, in fact, that Charlotte had been the only one to know about them.

but those flowers, that pain, had still lasted long enough for Charlotte to see how horrible, how _heart-wrenching,_ of an experience the Hanahaki Disease can truly be.

and that remembrance, that knowledge, just seemed to make that flower petal, now sitting on her dresser, even more taunting.

\---

as soon as the shock settled more into her bones, as soon as she felt she had caught her breath a little, she thought about that person she loved.

Becky Lynch. her best friend. her Becks.

that was who she loved. that was who she had loved for as long as she could remember.

Becky Lynch with her fiery hair and fire-forged heart. Becky Lynch with her sharp puns and soft smiles. Becky Lynch with her warm hugs and warm hands and her unwavering amount of support. 

there was never a chance to be had for Charlotte against the force of Becky Lynch in her life, and she knew that.

even on the first day that they met, when Becky had been a little less confident and outgoing but had helped Charlotte stand up after her foot slipped during a workout. Charlotte knew she was a goner. 

the way that the woman's fingers fit around her wrist felt too right, could never be wrong, and the touch left invisible burn marks on Charlotte's skin. almost like a brand. 

it was from that moment forward that she was Becky's, could only ever be Becky's.

and, for a while, she thought Becky was hers too. (she was in a way.) 

sometimes the way Becky would look at her, the way her eyes would linger on Charlotte when she thought Charlotte wasn’t paying attention—Charlotte was always paying attention to Becky—seemed like it meant something.

the way Becky’s touches were always so careful, so reverent and real. the way Becky’s eyes crinkled in that specific and special way that Charlotte had discovered was only in her direction—after much observation.

the way Becky seemed to relax around her. the way Becky always wanted to protect her. the way that Becky simply _was_ around her. 

Charlotte had thought, at one time, that it meant something more than friendship to Becky, because it did to her. 

but then Becky came to her one day, with a sort of nervous, sort of dreadful, smile on her face. 

“i want you to meet someone,” she’d said, and that was when Charlotte stopped believing that any of it meant anything.

because Becky had someone else. Becky had a guy, and she didn’t want Charlotte in that way, and Charlotte would just have to be okay with that. 

she acted okay with it. for months, she acted okay with it, and she managed to come to a relative peace about it within herself. 

but that love never faded. it never went away. it only grew stronger.

it grew stronger, bigger, fiercer. and now it had solidified into a physical entity, living proof.

living proof sitting on her dresser. taunting her. 

taunting her for days. then weeks.

and, of course, Becky was none the wiser about it, because Charlotte didn't have the strength to change the way she interacted with the woman. 

she still let Becky hug her, and hold her hand, and be at her side as much as she wanted. (maybe she was a bit of a masochist.)

so, the only thing that truly changed was the ever-present itch settled in her throat. 

and it would die down some, every once in a while, but as soon as she thought of Becky, looked at Becky, talked to Becky, it surged back up again and made her want to cough. 

to the point where sometimes she actually had to. 

like one night when they were out at dinner, and Charlotte was so captivated by the way the shadows on Becky's face shifted with each word she said and movement she made, that she couldn't help herself. 

"are you alright?" Becky had asked, as the solitary clearing of her throat turned into a slight, breathless fit. 

Charlotte nodded.

"yeah," she managed to croak out. "the—." another cough. "the bread just went down the wrong pipe. i'm good."

and she was. with one last forceful exhalation of air, Charlotte swallowed roughly around the raw feeling in her throat. 

she stole a brief glimpse at the petal settled into her napkin, right where her lips had been, and then she curled her fingers tighter around the fabric and crushed it in her hand.

she managed to keep it under control for the rest of the dinner. 

but when she got into her hotel room—Becky was meeting up with him, so she wasn't staying with Charlotte—it picked back up again. (because Becky had brushed a kiss across her cheek and left her standing amidst the lingering scent of her perfume.)

Charlotte wanted to think, of course, that it was the perfume she was reacting to. but she wasn't going to lie to herself. 

she felt lightheaded by the time she managed to catch her breath. her chest was aching, right beneath her sternum. 

she blinked at the tears in her eyes, that had formed out of physical exertion, and stared down at the evidence that continued to surface for her, continued to rub it in. 

there were three petals laid out on the bathroom sink in front of her, instead of the usual number of one.

they were bright yellow, thin and flat, with distinct veins running down the middle. 

it didn't take much research for Charlotte to identify them as belonging to a daffodil. 

it took even less time to find out what daffodils symbolize. 

"unrequited love."

she scoffed.

"how unoriginal."

she threw the petals away, flushed them down the toilet.

but that first one was still on her dresser. 

and her throat was still hurting. 

\---

it wasn't all bad all the time, though. 

for about two more weeks—four-ish weeks after she first coughed up her love—she managed to exist pretty normally. 

the number of petals wasn't increasing much past five at a time, and the fits were few and far between. she usually just had to swallow it down, maybe drink some water, to get it all to go away for a bit.

and the simple fact was, that Becky still smiled at her every day, and so even when Charlotte didn't have as much oxygen as she'd like, she could breathe easy. 

because if Becky was happy and healthy, Charlotte would always be able to breathe easy, even if she actually couldn't. 

\--- 

it was about five and a half weeks after petal number one that Charlotte was struck by what people like to call the  _tragic irony_ of her circumstance.

in the relative darkness of her hotel room, she was looking over at Becky's sleeping form beside her, at where she'd fallen asleep during their movie.

the end scene was now playing, but Charlotte had seen it enough times to know the lines by heart. 

though, that was really a bad argument for not paying attention, because she also knew the exact lines of Becky's features by heart, yet she was still captivated by them. 

yet, in that exact moment, the urge to trace her fingers across them was almost overwhelming. nearly irresistible. 

the swell of affection she felt, by just merely existing beside her best friend, was familiar. it was warm and heavy in her stomach. 

the want to give Becky all she could ever ask for and need, just to maintain the peacefulness that was on her face, was familiar too. 

and it had Charlotte flashing back to a conversation they'd had before. on a night as mundane and comfortable as the one being experienced currently. 

on a night when Charlotte had glanced over at Becky sitting in her living room, looking right at home, right in place, and smiled. 

when Charlotte had been overcome with the same rise and rush of affection and protectiveness and desire to provide everything that could ever be wished for upon the stars. 

when she had tilted her head and simply said, “i’d die for you, you know," because it was true, and because Charlotte was nothing if not a little dramatic with declarations. 

and Becky had, rightfully, looked to her with a startled expression.

“no one’s asking ya to do that, lass,” she said, glancing back to the racing game she was playing because of a sharp noise of error. “please stay right where you are.”

and Charlotte had merely smiled some more, as she made her way over to where the other woman was sat against the front of the couch, instead of on it. 

“i’m not saying that i’m going to go looking for ways to sacrifice myself for you, Becks.” she stretched her arm over Becky’s shoulders and settled back. “but if it came down to it, i’d let someone take me way before i let them take you.”

Becky squinted her eyes at the screen, poking her tongue out in concentration just enough to make Charlotte notice.

“were you watching one of those romantic vampire movies again?” she asked, nearly moving her whole body as she tried to avoid someone ramming into her car. “that’s usually when your existential thoughts come into play. i think it’s all the immortality and declarations of eternal love that make you say things like this.”

“no, i wasn’t.”

Becky shot her another glance.

“ok, maybe i was.”

Becky hummed knowingly at her, a small smirk on her lips.

“but that doesn’t make it a lie.”

“i think you’re just too selfless.”

“and i think you’re about to lose your game.”

“well, i was _about_ to win until you came and distracted me with all your sappy talk.”

“you know what, maybe i would let the vampires take you.”

“no ya wouldn’t. just like i wouldn’t let them take you either.” 

Becky's car crashed then, but instead of restarting the game she just let out a huff and paused it so that she could turn to look Charlotte in the eyes. 

and they had been so close that Charlotte could see each of the little wrinkles in the delicate skin of Becky's eyelids. 

"but you know you're not allowed to go anywhere i can't follow, Flair, so don't even try to be self-sacrificial should the opportunity arise. we're living forever, remember? you and me. just two peas."

Becky lightly nudged her shoulder into where it was settled under Charlotte's arm, a crooked little smile on her lips. 

Charlotte almost kissed her then. with the sounds of a video game in the background and what felt a lot like immortality flowing through her veins. 

but she didn't. she just gave a smile of her own, with her fangs peaking out and sparkling in the tv glow. the type of grin that Becky had told her was her favorite 'Charlotte grin' some time before. 

it was a separate night and instance entirely. the woman might have been a little intoxicated, while Charlotte had taken up the mantle of designated driver, and, thus, she was slurring words that she swore to be true.

Charlotte had been tucking her into her bed, right next to Charlotte's own, with a laugh, when Becky declared that the smile she was sporting was her second favorite, because it was genuine and gently amused. 

"you've got a first favorite?" Charlotte had asked, not really focusing just yet. 

"'course I do,” Becky had responded, almost affronted. “'ve got a list in my head—one day i'll write it down on paper for you to read—but, basically, you've got 'bout a hundred different smiles, and i've got 'em all ranked, mostly by how happy you are when you make 'em."

at that point Charlotte was focused, but she was so stunned that she couldn't move or make any more words. 

Becky could, though.

"d'ya wanna know what my first favorite is?"

Charlotte nodded then, probably dumbly. 

the whiteness of Becky's teeth flashed in the darkness. 

"it's your fanged one. ya know, when you're smilin' real big and not carin' about who all's lookin'? that one. always that one."

and, man, if Charlotte hadn't been gone before, she definitely was in that moment, looking down at Becky's exhausted but entirely earnest face. 

she let out a quietly shaking breath, because sometimes it still blew her away, how much further she could still fall in love with Becky every day. 

it blew her away on that night, when Becky was inebriated but never insincere.

it blew her away again as Becky rested her head on her shoulder and let her game controller lie limp in her lap. 

and it came back, once more, as she listened to the music swell in the movie, which she hadn't been watching since she noticed Becky nodding off beside her. 

continuously, without fail, it _always_ blew her away: her capacity and capability of never once wavering in how fully she loved Becky Lynch.

_"you're not allowed to go anywhere i can't follow."_

that's what Becky had said.

_"we're gonna live forever. you and me."_

Charlotte knew that Becky had meant it.

_"don't even try to be self-sacrificial should the opportunity arise."_

but here was that irony. 

here was the tragedy. 

because Charlotte had a fatal disease, brought on by the love she had for Becky.

Charlotte had roots and flowers growing in her lungs, taking hold and blooming, and she would until she either couldn't breathe around them or until she got them and her love for Becky removed. 

so, she would either die physically, or her sense of self as she knew it would die.

because she didn't _know_ who she was without her love for Becky. as a friend, as a lover, as a soulmate, in any way, shape, or form, Charlotte had always been meant to love Becky.

Charlotte's love for Becky had helped make her into a better person. it helped her grow and evolve. 

Becky _herself_ had helped Charlotte become who she was, and if Charlotte had that love removed—if the statistics weren't on her side, and she had her memories taken too—then she would have to discover—or remember, maybe—what life without Becky Lynch was like.

and Charlotte didn't want that. 

god, Charlotte despised the mere thought of it. 

but she also didn't want to die. 

she didn't want to die, but she didn't want to stop loving Becky either.

and she couldn't _tell_ Becky, of course, because Becky would blame herself. she would hate herself for putting Charlotte in such a situation. 

so, here Charlotte was, five weeks in, suffering silently, and she was going against what Becky had told her. 

it wasn't self-sacrificial entirely, but it kind of was. 

the opportunity arose, and Charlotte didn't particularly want to take it, but she didn't really have a choice. 

because she'd truthfully rather die with her love in tact, than live with its emptiness left aching in her heart. 

because she'd truthfully rather die silently, than tell Becky about something she wouldn't be able to fix. 

so, she wasn't dying _for_ Becky, but, also, she kind of was.

and it really was such a god damned tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> my Tumblr is Flairfatale.


	3. when i got the invite, i knew it was too late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter comes from "Marry Me" by Thomas Rhett

"you know, i read this article on twitter the other day, about the theory of parallel universes, and, well, you’ve heard of it, right? the theory that for every choice you've made or circumstance you've been in, there’s an opposite universe where things play out differently?”

Charlotte hummed lightly in acknowledgement, continuing to flip through the pages of her magazine and continuing to act like she wasn’t hyperaware of the spot where Becky’s leg was touching her own.

it was a calm night, six weeks post petal. they'd been off for the entirety of the day, and they'd spent their time together. 

they had gone to the gym in the morning, then grabbed some lunch. 

Becky suggested a movie, so they went and saw one. 

Charlotte thought it was pretty good. or, at least, it probably was. Becky had been laughing enough for it be good. 

Charlotte wasn't paying much attention to the plot.

(she found she had trouble paying attention to a lot of things lately.)

her usual thought process had skewed and steered into an entirely different direction after she discovered she was sick. 

it didn't matter what she was wondering about or imagining anymore, her mind found a way to circle back to or insert Becky.

“well, it just got me thinking, you know," Becky continued. "well, it was more like an existential crisis sort of deal, to be honest, because i just thought, like, what if there were things i had done differently in _this universe_. what if there were people i hadn’t met and hadn’t lost. what if there were doors i didn’t walk through that put me in a different place than where i am today. i mean—Charlie, are you even listening?”

Charlotte looked up then, to see Becky watching her intently, with a crease to her eyebrows and a small frown on her lips.

she set her magazine down on her lap.

“yes, of course, Becks. what if you had done things differently. i’m with you. keep going.”

Becky bit her bottom lip a little before nodding and continuing, and Charlotte noticed then that, maybe, this was a more serious topic than Becky’s usual ramblings about different articles she’d read.

“i—i know it sounds kind of stupid, but it really kind of tripped me out. i don’t even know why because, obviously, i hadn’t done things differently, and i’m here right now, but, like, what if—what if i’d stayed retired? what if i’d never come to the wwe or done any of this?”

Becky’s eyes met hers again, and Charlotte felt the sudden urge to cough.

she tried to swallow around it.

“you’d have been successful in whatever career you chose, Becky,” she said. “i have no doubt about that.”

“no,” Becky shook her head. “no, i mean, like, what if—what if _we’d_ never met. how do ya figure that would look?”

Charlotte frowned then too, an uncomfortable sort of feeling settling in her stomach.

“i don’t know,” she replied slowly. “different, for sure.”

Becky shifted some, her leg pressed more firmly into Charlotte's. 

"i don't think i'd like it," she declared after a moment or two more of silence. 

 _good_ , Charlotte thought. _me neither_. 

instead she said, "well, you wouldn't really know you didn't have me, right? like you wouldn't know i was missing, i mean. so you wouldn't have anything to dislike."

"i'd know. i might not know why, but i would know that i was missing something."

"how?"

"i just would, Charlie. a life without you would have a mini skyscraper sized hole in it, and there's no way i could look over it."

Charlotte gave a faint smile then, tender and achingly fond, but her mind had moved again. 

because she had never thought about that. not really, at least.

living a life without Becky seemed almost impossible, preposterous. it would be a travesty. a crime of the highest manner. 

Charlotte could hardly even imagine any life—her own or some alternate version of it—without Becky.

because Becky had just always been there. she’d always been a constant.

and the truth was, Charlotte didn’t even _want_ to imagine a life without Becky in it.

even with her current predicament, she wouldn’t ever trade the life she was living for another, healthier one, and she knew that.

so, she just tilted her head slightly with a soft grin before reaching out to tuck some stray hair behind Becky’s ear.

“you’re my girl, Becks, and i know that in any universe i could, i’d find you.”

Becky smiled some then with a sniffle, and it made Charlotte’s heart beat a little faster, knowing that she’d been the cause.

"i just—i know it doesn't make a lot of sense, but it was like i started thinking about everything i've been through and lost to get to where i am now, and i'm just so happy now, you know? i never thought i'd be where i'm at, and i definitely didn't even dream about having what i've got, and the thought of losing any of it, even in an alternate universe, kind of sent me spiraling."

Charlotte's chest twinged.

"i kind of had a tiny panic attack because i got so in my head. well, you know how i can get, thinking of worst case scenarios. i just started thinking that maybe everything is too good to be true. like what if it all gets ripped from my hands just as i've gotten settled? is that stupid? it feels stupid. and paranoid."

"it's not stupid," Charlotte reassured immediately, sincerely, because she knew the feelings too. "it's not. i understand what you mean, love. i think that sometimes too."

"yeah?" Becky breathed out, and there was a heaviness to the syllable, and a hope for it to possibly be lifted off of her, that made Charlotte wonder how long Becky had been holding onto this in her mind. 

"yeah," she nodded. "we're living out our dreams. seeing places we never could have imagined and meeting amazing people and doing amazing things. it's hard to believe sometimes. it's hard to believe that we've earned such a life. but we have. we have earned it. _you_ have earned it, Becks."

the way that Becky's face shifted told Charlotte that she'd reached the crux of her friend's crisis. 

so, "you deserve everything you have and more," is what she repeated, reiterated for the thousandth time since she'd known Becky. "there are no doubts about it in my mind. in anyone's mind, for that matter. you've worked hard. everything you've got is yours to keep."

Becky sniffled then again. her chin wobbled a little, and she looked so grateful, and so in need of a hug, that Charlotte could do nothing but readjust her body and open her arms for the woman to fall into. 

"thanks, Charlie," Becky whispered, after a bit, after she'd reined in her emotions. her head was still on Charlotte's shoulder, her arms were still around Charlotte's torso. 

"you know i've got you, always," Charlotte replied gently. "for as long as i live."

"you've got me," Becky repeated, with a minute nod. she pulled back some, to look into Charlotte's eyes. "and i've got you."

Charlotte nodded this time. 

"yeah, you've got me."

and maybe it's not what Becky had meant, but it was still the truest thing Charlotte had ever uttered. 

Becky had her. she would always have her. 

in her corner. in her hands. 

if she wanted Charlotte there, there is where Charlotte would be. 

Charlotte was still Becky's, and as she reaffirmed this fact verbally, the brand on her wrist felt like it was reignited in its heat, just to remind her she was right and that it wouldn't be going anywhere. 

Charlotte continued to draw patterns into Becky's back with her fingertips. 

Becky's gaze, though, was searching, tracing and trailing over Charlotte's face. it was easy for Charlotte to sit back and wait, to meet Becky's eyes whenever they passed back over her own. (truthfully, looking at Becky could be Charlotte's profession if her WWE contract ever fell through.)

they were quiet for a while, and Charlotte briefly thought about how she had never known true contentment with quiet before she met Becky. 

"you know," came the eventual words, slow and significant. "sometimes i think you're the best thing i've got."

the scratchiness at the base of Charlotte's windpipe reappeared. her eyes tried to sting with emotion. 

"only sometimes?" she asked, with some difficulty, trying to keep her secrets and her sorrow at bay. 

she carved a teasing smile into her facade of a face, her marble mask of calm. Becky laughed through a hiccup.

"ninety-eight percent of the time. so, yes, sometimes. most of the time."

"what's the other two percent?"

"when i've got a fresh bowl of quinoa of course. those times are when i think maybe quinoa is the best thing i've got." Becky tilted her head. "but the quinoa is always gone really soon. and you're still here. you're always here. so, maybe, it's ninety-nine percent of the time, instead."

the leafy taste and sensation of a petal stuck itself at the back of Charlotte's throat then. she tried not to choke on it.

"well, i certainly appreciate that. you know the feeling's mutual, of course." and, god, wasn't that an understatement? "it's forever you and me, right?" 

"right," Becky nodded. "just two peas." 

it wasn't as hard to smile when Becky was laughing at her own joke, so Charlotte did so and blinked at the other woman's face. 

she thought that maybe she should tell Becky then, in that moment. 

she thought that she was very much in the wrong for reassuring Becky that she could keep all she had when Charlotte herself would not be able to stay forever, like she had promised.

she thought that Becky deserved to know. 

she knew that Becky would blame herself for it all. she knew Becky couldn't cure her. (she was in love with someone else, after all.)

but, in that moment, with Becky as all she could see and hear and feel. in that moment, as they were still wrapped up in one another and still looking at one another, Charlotte's traitorous thoughts, that she had said she'd sworn off, kept trying to insist that it _had_ to mean something. that Becky's words and Becky's arms around her had to mean _something._

and if it maybe meant something, then, also maybe, telling Becky wouldn't be a bad idea.

but just as Charlotte started to pull some resolve from within her veins, Becky's phone rang abruptly, atop the table a few inches away. 

the noise broke their bubble. it stole Charlotte's resolve away and shoved it back in place, deep down, not to be touched again. 

Becky gave Charlotte one last tightening of their embrace, and she pulled away fully, reaching for the device and flipping it over to see who was calling. 

Charlotte saw his name, and her chest burned. she knew another root had probably dug in. 

Becky's voice, light and cheery—less meaningful but meaning everything—said, "hey!" and she stood and walked out into the hallway to talk about things that just _couldn't be_ as important. 

hot tears sizzled underneath Charlotte's eyelids.

she hoped sincerely that the her that was with Becky in another universe made sure to thank the powers-that-be every day.

\---

At the seventh week, Charlotte started to get tired. 

it started to get really hard to breathe during certain minutes, hours, days. 

the petals were increasing in number and frequency of appearance. 

it didn't even take thoughts of, or interactions with, Becky to make them sprout up anymore. 

she could be going about her business, in the gym, driving, walking, and all of a sudden she had to go to the bathroom to cough up what could suddenly be considered a small _stream_ of petals. enough for a whole flower. 

it started to get hard to sleep, because she found her chest heaving and her throat hurting each time she thought she was settled. 

a faint floral scent started to linger on her clothes and skin. 

"you get a new lotion?" Becky had asked, after pulling out of a casual hug. "you smell different. good different. but still different."

Charlotte had just nodded and said, "yeah, i found it in my suitcase. i think it was a gift from someone that i forgot about," but, later that night, she tried to wash and rewash her clothes to get the smell to fade. (it didn't really work, and it was in her hair by that point too.)

the disconnect that she had initially felt for the sickness started to disappear as the symptoms got harder to ignore and harsher in their effects. 

a real sort of worry finally started to shiver through her bones, on her sleepless nights, when it was just her and her flowers and her thoughts. 

she knew she would have to go to a doctor at some point. she knew they would tell her what she already knew, and that's why she kept putting it off. 

she didn't want to worry anyone, so she kept it to herself entirely. 

was it a good strategy? no. 

did it help anything? not really. 

was she too afraid that saying it out loud to someone would make it real and irreversible? absolutely. 

so, she didn't say anything. 

she pretended she didn't feel anything.

Becky would look at her, and Charlotte would look back unflinchingly. 

(Becky was so beautiful that Charlotte often wished she had the ability to draw, just so she could immortalize the woman's likeness from her own point of view. 

she often wished she could let Becky see herself through her own eyes, because, then, maybe, all of her insecurities and uncertainties would be wiped away.)

Charlotte often wished that Becky could truly feel how much she loved her. 

because, at times, Charlotte's love for Becky felt so powerful and profound that she was sure it could move mountains. maybe even split seas or spill out into the skies to paint new colors that only Becky could see. 

and it wasn't a burden to bear, exactly, because it meant so much to her, but she still wished she could share it.

she found herself getting increasingly closer to saying it as time continued to pass, closer than the night she was interrupted by his phone call.

 _I love you_.

she wanted to shout the words some times and whisper them others. 

_I love you._

it only took a fleeting brush of Becky's hand on her arm to have them pressing against the backs of her teeth. 

and she knew they would come out easily. smooth and like they were always meant to be formed by her lips. 

but she couldn't say them. she didn't say them.

so swallowing them back down was hard.

their firm pressure in her mouth hardened and sharpened. they formed thorns out of their own syllables and made sure to scratch the inside of her esophagus as revenge for their imprisonment. 

she almost wanted to apologize to them, because she understood the desire to be free. 

she wanted to be free from her situation, from the weight of such a love, a love she knew had brought weaker men and women to the brinks of their minds and sanity. 

she wanted stability and steadiness. she wanted her knees to not shake whenever Becky was in the room. 

but she was accustomed to not getting what she wanted. 

she was used to being hit while she was down. 

unfortunately, that didn't mean she was expecting the next blow that came.

\---

eight weeks gone, two months past.

Charlotte had flown to North Carolina for a birthday on a weekend she had off. it had been a while since she'd been home, and she decided she deserved a little quality time with her family. 

because she loved her family to pieces. her family was her foundation, there since the beginning and always there at the end of the day.

(the idea of leaving them was a lot to bear in the quiet moments of little movement. she had to relieve the pressure in her chest a few times more than she would have liked.)

but still, it was a type of refresher that she needed before going back to the rapid schedule of travel WWE always had for her. 

so, of course, she found herself sad to go on that Sunday's night. she had her flight to catch early in the morning, very early in the morning, because she had a press event to go to, and so she had planned to quietly retreat to her apartment and pack up. 

her father decided, though, that she should come to dinner with him and a few family friends. so, she was out a lot later than she intended. 

by the time she was unlocking the door to her apartment and stumbling in the dark of her living room, she knew she was going to hate her life later on. 

but she had a content kind of warmth in her body that made her not mind it much. she felt exhausted enough to maybe actually sleep for real. 

her usual nighttime routine was shortened by her lack of motivation to do anything but crawl into bed, and she was about to do just that when she got the text from Sasha. 

she stopped walking through her living room to read the words.

the warmth in her immediately disappeared and was replaced with an icy dread. it grabbed ahold of her insides and squeezed tight. 

 ** _Sasha [11:56 PM]:_** _has she talked to you yet?_

somehow, Charlotte knew automatically that something was wrong. somehow, then, she knew that some object was about to come ricocheting throughout the card house she’d built and send it tumbling down.

because when she thought about it, suddenly, she remembered that Sasha and Bayley were on a double date with Becky and _him_. (the schedules and locations had linked up, and Charlotte could remember feeling so grateful that she didn't have to sit through that.)

but, now, Charlotte wasn't feeling so grateful.

because she knew. 

even though she sent back: _‘no? who?’_

she knew, in her heart of hearts.

how could she not?

Sasha typed a few times—three times too many—but she continued to erase her response each time. Charlotte just sat and watched the bubble appear and disappear until it eventually solidified into words that made her heart hit harder against her chest.

 **_Sasha [11:59 PM]:_ ** _Becky_

 **_Sasha [11:59 PM]_ ** _and ok… well, she’s about to call you. just text me when you need to okay, Char? i love you._

Charlotte brought up her keyboard, intending to ask Sasha what the hell that meant, but before she could even type a ‘w’ her screen shifted of its own volition.

she coughed lightly.

 **_Becks <3 _ ** **calling…**

a shaky breath slipped quietly past Charlotte’s lips as she lifted the device to her ear.

she cleared her throat some.

“hello?”

there was a moment of shuffling, and then…

“Charlotte, hey,” came Becky’s voice, breathy and light and just the right sound to make Charlotte’s legs tremble. “are you busy right now? i kinda need to talk to you about something important.”

Charlotte looked over to the lamp light emanating softly from her bedroom. she thought about how she had to be up at 3 and how it was already midnight.

and then she shook her head for no one but herself.

“no, Becks, i’m just about to go to sleep, but that can wait for this.”

_for you._

Becky laughed airily, if a little unnaturally. 

“ok, thanks, Char. i promise i won’t keep ya long.”

Charlotte shuffled her feet. an uneasiness was prickling at her skin.

“it’s no problem, Becks. what’s up? are you alright?"

"yeah, yeah," Becky promised. "i'm fine. just a little in shock, maybe? i don't know. i'm still trying to wrap my mind around it."

something in Charlotte's stomach lurched.

"around what?"

there was a long pause, almost long enough to have Charlotte pulling her phone away from her ear to make sure the call was still connected. 

Becky let out a breath, the kind where she puffed her cheeks out and looked a little like a chipmunk. (not that Charlotte had ever likened Becky to a chipmunk before. of course not.)

she shook her head.

"Becks, what—?"

“he proposed…”

Charlotte’s body froze.

“and i said yes.”

that something in her stomach morphed into legitimate nausea and then rolled sickeningly.

she stuttered.

“i—wow…”

she shook her head, more in disbelief than anything else.

“Becky… Becks…” she breathed out, looking up at the ceiling. “that’s—that’s…” horrible, heartbreaking, earth-shattering. “ _great_. it’s great! i’m… i’m happy for you, truly.”

“thank ya, lass,” Becky whispered. “i really just wasn’t expecting it, ya know? like, it just seems so out of the blue, doesn’t it? not in a bad way, of course, but…” there was another slight pause, this one shorter. “ah, well, you know what i mean, don’t ya, Charlie?”

Charlotte swallowed thickly.

“of course, yeah. i totally get what you mean, Becks.”

Charlotte used the next silence to try to catch her breath.

“when—uh… when did this happen? yesterday?”

“oh, uh, no, maybe, like, thirty minutes ago? at the dinner with Sasha and Bayley.”

so, at least the message made a relative amount of sense now, Charlotte thought.

“we’re still at the restaurant, but i snuck away to the bathroom while the waiter was bringing in the celebratory champagne." 

Charlotte was reeling in such a ragged downward spiral that she couldn't even decipher the emotion in Becky's voice like usual.

it was more instinct than intent that made her say a numb, "make sure Sasha only has a glass or two. she's got work later on." 

she mused that it was probably the same sort of instinct that had Becky chuckling in response. 

it got quiet again. Charlotte heard a car go by in the street, and she kind of wished she could flag it down and have the driver take her away, to any other place than her living room where she had just been given the most devastating news possible. 

then, again, there was muffled shifting on the other side of the line, and then: “well, i won’t keep ya any longer, love. thank you for letting me tell you this late at night. i just didn’t think i could go another moment keeping it from you. you know i always share everything with you as soon as i can. didn't think this should be any different.”

“of—of course, Becks. you know you can call whenever you want. always.” Charlotte blinked harshly as tears came up to burn her eyes. “congratulations again. i’m very happy for you. for both of you. tell him I said so, yeah?”

“of course. thank you, Charlotte. you’re the best, you know. i love you.”

Charlotte felt a horrible sob come up and lodge itself at the base of her throat.

she was barely able to get it to stay down.

“I love you too.”

Becky mumbled a faint, "bye," and then the phone line clicked off, and Charlotte was left standing alone. 

she was left standing alone, in her living room in North Carolina, while Becky was hundreds of miles away, with her _fiancé_ to keep her company...

" _fuck_."

Charlotte's first tear fell just as her legs gave out beneath her.


	4. waiting on a cure, but none of them are sure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of the chapter comes from "A Little Bit Longer" by the Jonas Brothers

that night—that _morning_ —she threw up the petals of a yellow carnation. 

and when she was done, she pulled out her phone and googled what the hell  _that_  meant, because her brain was just too strained to help her supply it for herself.

"disappointment and rejection…" she read out loud, scoffing sadly as she lifted her cheek away from the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. "should've known."

she tossed her phone onto the counter and stood shakily, flushing said reminder of her disappointment and rejection away and then staring directly at her pale face and wondering when she got so pathetic.

"you need to get yourself together," she whispered, unsympathetically. “you knew this was going to happen at some point.”

as if in protest and trying to prove the validity of its pain, her chest smarted again, sharply enough to make her breath catch.

she felt like she could throw up again, but she willed herself not to. 

she had a flight to catch in a couple of hours. she had sleep to pretend she was taking part in. 

she couldn't put her life on hold. 

she refused to. 

\---

Raw and Smackdown were in the same city that week, so after her press event was done—after a whole day of trying to look like she wasn't being suffocated from the inside out, like she wasn't drowning in a love she couldn't give to anyone—she arrived to the stadium to see all of the friends that she missed daily.

of course, she's never been the most original of thinkers. a lot of the Smackdown superstars were already there when she arrived. they all gave her smiles and hugs and waves when they saw her. like they didn't see her almost every day. (it was still nice. to know that on the rare days they don't lay eyes on each other, they're still wishing well until they reunite. they still feel that lack of presence until it's returned.)

the thought that her friends—fellow superstars at the least—would be feeling that absence in a more permanent fashion in the not very distant future made an acute pain poke at the back of her left eye. no amount of blinking would rid her of it. 

she was almost sure she looked like she had a twitch, or like she was a tired child when she rubbed at it. 

she didn't care. she willed it to disappear. but just like the recently-settled raggedness of her breaths, it wouldn't be soothed. 

so, just like to the recently-settled raggedness to her breathing, she surrendered to it eventually.

she pressed her knuckle to her eye one last time, and then she blinked the blurriness of her vision away.

and that was when she saw her. like the way you can stray but have to return home, her eyes found Becky.

and she didn't think she'd missed her before, so she must have just arrived. 

a low, familiar comfort hummed from within its place next to her muscles; a part of her that was used commonly, consistently. it stretched itself out and wrapped around her bones whenever she saw Becky. 

it made her feel warmer, not as bare or exposed. 

and this time was no different.

because Charlotte was just happy to see Becky, despite the news. she was always happy to see Becky. so as soon as she spotted her from across the room, a smile made its way across her lips.

for a second, a brief span of a breath, she was able to forget—at least suspend—the knowledge that Becky had just promised herself to someone else not even twenty-four hours before. for a second, that one brief half of a breath, Becky was still her girl, standing there and laughing with Bayley, who Charlotte had yet to greet as well. 

she went to take a step forward. 

but then he came into the picture, from the side of the frame, catching Charlotte off guard and slamming that knowledge—that reality—back into the forefront of her lens.

he looked out of place. he was in Charlotte's territory, but he still made her remember that Becky wasn't her girl. not anymore. (and maybe she never was.)

when he smoothly slid his arm to rest over Becky's shoulders, Charlotte almost wanted to look away. but she'd already been contemplating whether or not she was a masochist, so she leant into it a little and kept watching.

Becky used her arm, the one that had helped Charlotte stand all that time ago, to return the hold around his waist. Charlotte watched her fingers curl in lightly over the fabric of his shirt, and she wondered if the fibers would catch fire, because that was the branding hand, the hand that marked and made Charlotte know she was to be no one else's.

she wondered if he felt that burn as much as she did, but he didn't flinch.

instead, he whispered something into Becky's ear closely, and Charlotte felt her stomach roll.

he pressed his lips to Becky's temple, in the same place Charlotte had pressed her own so many times before, and it was then that she had to make her exit. 

a deep, visceral shudder rolled through her body. she pushed her legs to get her out as quickly as possible. 

unfortunately, that meant she ran into someone due to her lack of real control. 

on the other side of the coin, leaning more towards fortune but maybe not quite there, was the fact that the person she ran into was Sasha. and Sasha she could handle. 

"Char!" she said, with a bright smile. "hey! i didn't know i was gonna see you today."

Charlotte nodded, breathlessly, her eyes flitting around and then back again in a way she knew Sasha would pick up on but couldn't stop.

"yeah, i—."

she choked on her words. she knew she didn't have a lot of time. 

“Char, are you okay? you look a little pale.”

"yeah," she got out, no louder than a whisper. she swallowed. "yeah, i just need to go to the restroom."

"oh, okay. do you feel sick?"

Charlotte just nodded some again, and then she really made a beeline for the nearest bathroom she could find.

it was a single. she knew it could be easily locked if she had the spare seconds. 

but she didn't. she barely made it to the toilet. 

it felt like small fissures formed in the caps of her knees as she dropped. 

she lurched forward as she finally let herself cough. the tense tingle that arose in the backs of her jaw made her mouth water. 

it felt harder to get the petals out. they wanted to stick and stay inside, against her tongue. 

she wanted to be rid of them so bad she made a desperate sound, a hopeless groan, a truly heart-wrenching noise of what seemed like effort but sounded like surrender. 

a broken sob, really.

she gripped the edge of the bowl like it was what was holding her to the earth. she strained with each new cough. 

lungfuls of her feelings' flora came out, it felt like, before she regained control. 

it hadn't lasted long. it always came in short spurts of suffering. 

but the effects remained.

her chest was heaving, like it always did. 

her eyes stung with tears, but she didn't let them fall. 

she knew they would have to, eventually. but she wasn't going to give in just yet. as soon as she did, she wouldn't be able to stop them again. 

what a hopeless fight to take part in, she mused. delaying the inevitable. 

she swallowed and looked down.

the petals floating in the water were brightly whitened at their base, where they'd be connected to the flower, but then, about a quarter of the way up, the color shifted to a bold red. almost without warning. almost like the white parts of a tie die shirt that had been saved from the stain too well being matched equally by its neighboring color. it was a little disconcerting.

Charlotte recognized them immediately. she had been doing a lot of research on flowers in the past two months.

The Anemone, meaning: _fading hope and forsaken love_. 

god, she always wanted to laugh at the symbolism, because they really just loved to hit the nail right on the head, huh? 

who said the universe didn't have a sense of humor?

no one. 

because just as she felt a bit more settled, was about to stand to regain composure, the sound of the door shutting once more—she hadn't even heard it open a second time—made all of her muscles freeze in place. 

see, the universe did have a sense of humor. 

but it was also a bitch. 

Charlotte brought her eyes up to the person. she hadn't had the chance to flush the toilet yet.

the petals were sitting there for open observation. 

yeah, you know what, fuck the universe.

she watched brown eyes look between her and her flowers. she watched the realization wash over concerned features. 

she felt a lump form in her throat at the devastation that followed.

“oh, Charlotte,” Sasha breathed out, her eyebrows creased in sympathy, in empathy, with too much emotion for Charlotte to take.

with enough emotion to make Charlotte glance away, as she weakly lifted her hands as if to present herself and her defeat all at once.

“yeah,” she said simply, letting the crack of her voice and wobble to her chin do all the talking, though she tried for a smile that wouldn't take hold. 

“honey." Sasha tilted her head like she didn't know what to do. the roles were reversed now, and she couldn't seem to remember how Charlotte had comforted her all that time ago. "for how long?”

“two months.”

“and you haven’t told anybody?”

Charlotte brought her eyes back to the other woman.

“who’ve i got to tell?”

Sasha moved forward with an abrupt sigh, more like herself, not as lost in that one instant, before taking Charlotte’s slightly sweat-soaked hair and pulling it away from her face as much as possible.

“how about me, you asshole.”

her voice was watery. it lacked its usual bite, as she kneeled down next to Charlotte and rested a cool hand on the back of her neck in an attempt to give her some relief. 

“well, now you know.”

“have you been to the doctor?”

“what will i learn from doc that i don’t already know?”

“they have ways to slow it down, Charlotte.”

Charlotte looked away again. she refrained from the instinctive interrogation of, _'what's the point?'_

that thought of _delaying the inevitable_ rang through her head again, bouncing from ear to ear and echoing within them for a bit.

“you’re not gonna ask me who it is?”

Sasha shook her head. she was still gazing at her like a fading image she wanted to help color back in. to preserve. to protect. 

“i don’t need to,” she replied, gently.

Charlotte scoffed quietly, without sharpness.

“that pathetic, huh?”

“not pathetic,” Sasha said. “never pathetic.” a slight pause. “well, except for maybe when you dance.”

Charlotte snorted tiredly.

“oh, yeah. definitely then.”

a tremulous, tedious, temporary lifting of Sasha's lips occurred, and Charlotte wanted to tell her friend that she appreciated her then. that she'd always appreciated her but hadn't told her enough. that she would tell her until she couldn't anymore. that she would spell it out with the petals that would eventually come to steal her voice. 

she wanted to thank Sasha for not making it a big deal, even though she knew her mind was moving faster than a flash of a camera comes and goes. 

because Sasha always knew what she needed. Sasha was a lot more selfless than people gave her credit for. 

Sasha always seemed to be the one destined to deal with this disease, in one form or another. and that sucked.

Charlotte shook her head, not really in disagreement with anything specific but maybe in disagreement with everything all at once. 

“isn’t it funny?” she asked. “that this is how i found you three years ago, and now it’s come full circle?”

Sasha's throat bobbed, almost like she could remember the sensation that was so presently sore in Charlotte's own. 

“no," she rasped out. "i wouldn’t wish this on anybody.”

Charlotte nodded her head, as if to concede. she started to get to her feet. she flushed all the evidence away. 

Sasha was silent as she washed her hands, rinsed out her mouth, splashed cool water across her over-heated cheeks. but the silence seemed to stem from pondering over a question.

one that came in the form of: “has there been any blood yet?”

Charlotte froze up again, like before when Sasha had first walked in and locked the door. she had the fleeting thought of lying, but she decided against it. 

“a little.”

“ _Charlotte_ …”

“it’s just a little bit here and there. i’m fine.”

“Charlotte… as the only other person in your life who knows what it feels like to go through this, let me just say, no you’re not.”

Charlotte clenched her jaw. she wanted to feel angry, at the bluntness. but she couldn't. 

Sasha was right.

Charlotte wasn't okay. 

she had been pretending things were still fine, still the same, for two months, and it was really starting to bite her in the ass. 

she couldn't breathe normally. she couldn't sleep normally. 

she always wanted to cry. 

she wanted to curl up, and she wanted Becky's arms to wrap around her consolingly as she did. 

god, she just wanted Becky to hold her. some days it was the only thing she thought could fix her, or numb her for a bit. 

hold her together, hold her close, help her through it. she knew Becky wouldn't hesitate if she told her, if she came clean. 

but she couldn't come clean. she wouldn't put it on Becky to help her, because Becky couldn't  _truly_ help her. she couldn't cure her. she was in love with someone else. 

and Charlotte was in love with her. 

she would be until the very last second of the very last day. 

Sasha seemed to sense how Charlotte felt about the situation, but, still, she said, "i'm going to call my doctor, the one who helped me. she kept it quiet then, and she'll keep it quiet now. you're going to go and accept the treatments for slowing it down. i'll come with. we'll figure out a plan." 

she listed off the points like they were calling spots in a match together, their last match together. 

a suicide dive through the ropes. a fall and a catch. just like old times. 

Charlotte agreed for the sentimentality of it all. 

"okay," she whispered. 

Sasha nodded, and then she was tugging Charlotte in, pulling her close, hugging her tight. 

Charlotte nearly wept into Sasha's shoulder. Sasha sniffled against her chest. 

"you're gonna make it through this, Baby Flair," she muttered. "'m not gonna let you go just yet. we'll figure something out. we always do."

Charlotte didn't have the heart to say that her mind was made up. she couldn't be anyone but the version of her that loved Becky. 

she just nodded too, tightened her grip. 

she didn't want to let go, because some days she missed Sasha so much it felt like she was incomplete, like the phantom pain of a limb she no longer had.

of course, she wasn't incomplete. of course, she was whole. 

but Sasha, and Bayley, and Becky were her soulmates. she knew that they were.

they were the complementary parts to her whole. 

they were all complete without one another, but they were so meant to be, that they didn't want to be. 

they were her best friends. 

and they would always find a way back; that was what they'd promised. when they were so young and so full of hope. when they didn't know where their careers would go. 

when they didn't know if they all would make it, if one would be left behind, but they promised to always come back, to always find a way back, anyway. 

no woman left behind. no woman forgotten. no woman left alone.

Charlotte didn't want to be the one to make that promise invalid. she didn't want to make them break it. she didn't want to go where they couldn't follow.

but it felt like her trajectory was set. she was in a plane that was on autopilot. if she took it off, she'd make it worse.

she couldn't keep every promise she made.

she knew that. 

just like she knew she had to let go of Sasha, which she did after a few more moments.

she let the woman lead her out, to a quieter, more isolated end of the hallway.

there was no one near enough to hear them, or pay attention to them. Charlotte still felt a little paranoid, but she ignored it.

"your secret is safe with me," Sasha said. "as long as you tell me you'll start taking care of yourself."

Charlotte nodded. 

"you got it, boss."

Sasha's chin wavered just slightly, a small ripple that faded fast. she lifted her hand to brush across Charlotte's cheek, faint and fond, familiar. she fixed Charlotte with a look that was firm.

"you promise?" 

there it was again. another promise. 

Charlotte had always prided herself on her faithfulness, her dependability, her aptitude for managing to come through when she was most needed. 

now, she could barely keep promises to herself, let alone other people. 

still, she nodded. 

"yeah," she breathed out. "promise."

Sasha could feel her uncertainty in herself. Charlotte had no doubt about that. 

but she didn't push. she knew what she needed. 

"okay. you do not hesitate to call me at any time. i don't care if you feel guilty because it's 3 a.m., you get over it, and you call me if you need to. got it? i will fly to where you are if need be."

"yeah. got it." she smiled a little, grateful in ways she didn’t know how to express otherwise. “thank you, boss lady.”

“you know i’ve got you always, queenie.”

Charlotte initiated the hug this time. 

she wasn't aware of how long it lasted. she was saddened by the thought that they both had to go and do work related duties soon. 

she realized that it felt nice to have someone that knew, even though Sasha was only being indulgent for the time being. even though Sasha would start to urge her to tell Becky soon. it was still nice. to not have to bear the weight on her own. 

it felt like a reprieve.

but it didn't last long. it never did. 

they were just pulling apart when the sound of a voice from down the hall caught their attention. they turned their heads, allowing for the sight of a brightly-colored head of orange hair to come into view.

“hey, Char! i’ve been looking everywhere for you—oh, i’m sorry.” Becky stopped short in her momentum forward when she seemed to register the expressions on their faces. “am i interrupting something?”

“no, no,” Sasha said, relinquishing Charlotte’s space back to her. “i was just saying goodbye. Bayley’s waiting for me. We have a meeting.”

Becky nodded, but there was a furrow to her brow that said she didn't quite believe it. 

she still accepted the hug Sasha offered as farewell, though, while Charlotte braced herself for providing answers she didn't have time to prepare properly.

surprisingly, the questions didn't come. not immediately anyway. they stood in silence for a bit. 

Charlotte eventually mustered a lighthearted, "did you need me for something specific, Becks? or you just missed seeing my face?"

and it seemed to break Becky out of her thoughts. 

there was a delay, a flicker of something in her expression, like she was running away from it and it had caught her for a second. but then she blinked and grinned at Charlotte. 

“yeah, no, i mean it wasn't anything specific, but i was trying to come find you earlier, and then you disappeared right when i turned away.”

remembering why she'd bolted made Charlotte's toes curl into the soles of her shoes. 

"sorry. i had to use the restroom, and then i ran into Sasha, and we started talking." the lie slipped so easily from her tongue, it almost startled her. she tried to make up for it: "but i'm here now."

Becky nodded again, but she still seemed a little suspicious and Charlotte could tell. 

“oh,” Becky then exclaimed absentmindedly. “there was something. did you wanna get dinner with Bayley and Sasha later? Bayley was wondering. she was sad she missed you before her meeting.” 

Charlotte was so used to the sensation of guilt in her veins at this point that she was sure it’d replaced her blood and would flow out of her in the first known form of physical apologies, should she be cut open, should she cough it up.

“yeah,” she said. “sounds good.” 

“alright. i’ll text her. tell her it’s a date.”

a stem shifted, a thorn scratched, something in her chest ached. 

her voice was slightly rougher when she said, “alright,” and she hated that Becky picked up on it.

dark eyes moved away from the screen of Becky’s phone. they searched her face, her body, the air around her almost.

“you sure you’re okay, Charlie?” Becky eventually asked, tilting her head to the side, as worry subtly started to peek in at the corners of her expression. “you know you can always tell me anything.”

"yeah, Becks,” Charlotte said. “just a rough day is all.” she shrugged. “nothing i can't get over."

Becky seemed a little caught off-guard that Charlotte actually admitted she was having a rough day. it wasn’t in her nature to show weakness. 

“you promise?”

Charlotte was starting to hate those words just as much as she hated the universe. 

“yep. you know it takes a lot to really bring me down. i’ll be good.” 

she thought Becky might try to pry further. she knew a concerned Becky was hard to deter. 

but she was again surprised when no further questions came. 

“yeah, i know. you’re the strongest person around.” the tone was slightly teasing, but it was sincere. “my favorite blonde boulder. completely unstoppable.” Charlotte found herself smiling. “but if you ever do have to stop or take a break, you know i can help pick up some of the slack. i’ve done it before, and i’ll do it again. as many times as you need.” 

“you keep talking like that, i’ll start to think you actually like having me around.” Becky rolled her eyes. “i know, Becks. thank you.”

Becky gave her one and then two up and down motions of her head, and then she closed the space between them. she wrapped her arms around Charlotte, much like Sasha had. 

she didn’t need to know what was wrong to try to make Charlotte feel better. she never had. 

Charlotte buried her nose in Becky’s hair. she let her eyelids slide closed, and she pretended it was just them in the building, in the city, on the earth. 

it was easy to when Becky was holding her. it was a self-indulgent thought that she took part in frequently, because if they were the only ones on earth, then they were meant to be. 

but Charlotte knew they weren’t. 

the remembrance always returned once Becky let go. and that was always hard to cope with. 


	5. now you're down on the ground screaming medic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the song "Battle Scars" by Lupe Fiasco.
> 
> \---
> 
> the first song is "Leave Your Lover" by Sam Smith. 
> 
> the second song is "This I Promise You" by NSYNC.

Charlotte coughed up three more petals while waiting for the time of their dinner date to come.

_we sit in bars and raise our drinks to growing old._

she sat in her car, alone, listening to the radio.

Becky had gone to search for him again, and Charlotte had let her go. 

what other choice did she have? 

asking her to stay would’ve been random and ridiculous-sounding.

_oh, i'm in love with you, and you will never know_

the first of the three came without introduction. a swift flutter. vaguely heart-shaped and light pink, thin enough to tear with the pressing of her fingertips together, it belonged to a Camellia flower. it symbolized: _longing for someone_.

she stared at it for a while, lost in her mind, in her longing, in her love.

it was only when she saw movement, colored bright like the Anemone's from earlier, that she looked up.

she shrunk back in her seat as she caught sight of Becky walking with him to their car.

_but if i can't have you, i want this life alone_

the other two petals came at the same time, as a pair, stuck together and refusing to part.

Charlotte rested them next to the first one, on her thigh. two and one.

_spare you the rising storm, and let the rivers flow_

she started her car up and drove away. she decided it'd be best to wait somewhere else.

\---

unsurprisingly but still unfortunately, he joined them for their meal. Charlotte guessed it was understandable. he and Becky were recently engaged, after all. they would want to spend as much time together as possible.

it made sense.

but sense did not always make for the feelings of good sentiment, and it definitely did not allow for Charlotte to have an enjoyable time. 

in fact, it made her feel like an intruder in her own space once more. her spot next to Becky was filled. the ring on Becky’s finger was blinding.

Charlotte looked at the rings that were similar in appearance and sitting on Sasha and Bayley’s fingers, and her place in the four horsewomen felt shifted to the side.

she realized she had loose ties.

she wondered if maybe she should’ve been in boy scouts. she thought maybe then she would have been able to present a tied knot good enough to stay. not a tied knot of marriage, but a commitment nonetheless. 

and, yeah, maybe her train of thought was steered wrong. she was the only conductor and she was sleep-deprived, so it wouldn’t be a surprise. but she was still finding it hard to get back on track. 

what seemed to help her redirection was the fact that Sasha didn’t seem happy either. after focusing a little more, Charlotte could feel it like she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck trying to stand whenever Becky looked her way; Sasha was definitely not pleased with his attendance.

and she kept shooting Charlotte subtle glances every time he spoke, perhaps fearing that just the sound of his voice would be enough to make Charlotte start coughing again.

she wasn’t very far off, actually. 

Charlotte was, indeed, fighting back her body’s gut reaction, its attempt at denial of the sight of him and Becky sitting next to one another.

Charlotte was positioned across from them, a little diagonally, next to Sasha and the edge of the table. Bayley was on Sasha’s other side, her right side, her right hand.

“here, Char. sit by me,” Sasha had said, upon realizing he would be present.

it had earned a mildly confused furrowing of Becky’s eyebrows, because Charlotte always sat by her if they were in a group setting, she always sat on her right. she was supposed to be her right hand.

but Becky didn’t verbally protest. she didn’t say she wanted Charlotte at her side, so Charlotte sat by Sasha. she was almost across from him, even further from Becky, and if Charlotte was a bigger fan of metaphors, she would’ve noted how he was now physically between them, as representation for how he was always a lingering emotional barrier.

but Charlotte was getting tired of metaphors and symbolism, so she didn’t note it.

and she didn’t talk. she kept her eyes down most of the time.

she tried to just block him out, ignore his input into the conversation. she was pretty good at it, actually. it wasn’t their first interaction, after all; she’d had practice before.

when he addressed her directly, though, she didn’t have it in her to outright be rude. so, she looked up at the call of her name, with a hum of acknowledgement, a lifting of her gaze that still wasn’t entirely present.

their eyes met, and the thought that his were an ugly color sprang forth, unbidden but not entirely unwarranted. truthfully, it wasn’t the first time the musing had crossed her mind, but it felt more crucial at present. they simply didn’t shine enough for Becky to have to look into them for the rest of her life. (but, then again, maybe that was Charlotte’s bitterness talking. maybe she was getting so used to the vibrancy of her petals, that everything else was starting to look dull in comparison.)

she wasn’t sure. she didn’t have time to come to a conclusion before he was talking again.

“i have a friend,” he said, leaning forward with a gesture of his hands. (he talked a lot with his hands, Charlotte noticed. he took up a lot of space. he bumped into Becky’s arm a little, and Charlotte wanted to ask if she was okay, but she was aware that she would be blowing it out of proportion if she did.) “he’s a fitness instructor.” Charlotte could tell where his statement was going even if she wasn’t fully paying attention. “a real nice guy. i think you two might get along. i could give you his number, and maybe next time it can be a triple date. yeah?”

Sasha had already been leant down and searching through her purse for her wallet on the side closest to Charlotte, so when she reached up to lay her hand on Charlotte’s knee, no one else saw it.

Charlotte cleared her throat and forced a smile that almost anyone could call out as coming up short. ironic, really, because of her height. 

“maybe,” she said with a nod, managing to look contemplative. “though, i’m sure you’ve heard i’m married to the job.”

he smiled.

(and Charlotte had always thought that people in relationships were supposed to be equals, but he just didn’t seem to compare to Becky in any capacity. not in his smile. not in his eyes. not in his jokes or his stories.

but Charlotte still didn't hate him. he made Becky happy, after all, and Charlotte wanted Becky to be happy over anything else.)

“yes, i’ve heard,” he nodded too. “i was just putting it out there for you to chew on. wouldn’t want you to feel like a fifth wheel or anything, you know.”

and his voice hadn’t taken up a quality of mocking, but the words didn’t sit right with Charlotte. she wanted to chew on them, yes, but then she wanted to spit them back at him.

she didn’t, though. she was worried the syllables would come out painted across her petals, exposing her, so she refrained. 

Sasha saved her from finding a response. 

“oh, don’t worry too much about Charlotte being a fifth wheel. she knows she’s always got a place with Bayley and I, should she so choose.”

the statement was accompanied by a well-meaning grin and a wink sent Charlotte’s way, and it was the first time all night that Charlotte was able to produce an actual semblance of levity. her returning smile wasn’t nearly as forced or fake.

Sasha’s hand was no longer on her knee, but Charlotte wished it was, so she could squeeze their fingers together in gratitude.

Bayley nodded along, still chewing, looking a little thoughtful but not outright serious enough to draw attention to herself.

Becky was actually frowning, but it was faint, almost imperceptible. Charlotte was unsure if it was one of those frowns that only she could detect, or if he could’ve detected it too, had he looked over or paid attention to his fiancé in that moment.

there wasn’t a lot of time to ponder over it. he laughed good-naturedly. they moved on in topic, and Charlotte went back to her previous presence of quietness.

she could feel Becky’s attention on her more acutely than before, however. she didn’t know if it was because Becky wanted her to meet her gaze or if she was starting to notice that Charlotte was still off and was trying to figure out why.

it was, truthfully, probably both.

when they called for the bill and were given boxes for their leftovers was when Charlotte finally took her stare off of the way she was making her fork twirl in her half-eaten pasta. and even then it was only because Becky’s voice felt too directed at her to disregard.

“can you pass me that box, babe?”

Charlotte’s chin lifted. she saw that it was a casual question; Becky was still looking over the receipt.

Charlotte’s fingers twitched of their own accord. if she hadn’t been so hyper-aware of his presence, her instinct would’ve taken over and she would’ve been doing as Becky asked.

she placed her fork down carefully upon her plate. he nodded and went to comply, but when Becky looked up, her eyes actually did go to Charlotte, before she seemed to realize that it was him who was reaching across the table. she corrected her gaze’s trajectory before he could notice.

Charlotte reached for her water instead and took a sip. it felt mildly irritating as it went down. her throat was so raw those days, from lack of reprieve.

it was a pain to drink. it was a pain to eat.

that’s why her food was half-eaten, her drink: half-drunk.

she took a box mostly for appearances.

as they said their goodbyes, Sasha held her a little tighter than normal. Bayley did too, though Charlotte knew Sasha hadn’t told her. Bayley was just very in tune with emotions. she could tell when something wasn’t right.

after they were gone, Charlotte went to hug Becky too, to say she’d see her later, the next day for Smackdown. she assumed Becky was going back with him. she didn’t know what their plans were. she didn’t particularly care to ask.

but then Becky said, “actually, Char, i was wondering if i could get a ride back to the hotel with you?”

and Charlotte’s nod came from nothing but her inability to deny Becky anything, but her eyebrows creased to show her confusion, they picked up her slack in real expression.

“i’ve got to go get some things tonight, because i have an early flight to catch tomorrow morning,” came the explanation, from him. “Becks said i could take the car.”

Charlotte didn’t mention that she thought he should drop Becky off first, before he attended to his errands.

she just said, “okay. yeah, of course, you can Becks.”

and Becky gave her such a smile, that fond one, where her eyes crinkled at the corners, that Charlotte stopped thinking about him.

she turned her back as they hugged and kissed goodbye, as they whispered, “see you later.” she pretended to be interested in how her shoes looked against the pavement.

she was a step ahead on the way back to the car. Becky didn’t try to fall in beside her. 

their ride back was quiet.  _but_ unlike the quiet Charlotte had sustained throughout dinner, it was comfortable. she and Becky never felt like there were expectations to be met when they were together. the way things went was the way things went, and as long as they were together, that tended to be enough.

come hell or high water, as long as they were together, they could handle anything.

that was how it had always been. it was tried, and tested, and true. 

Charlotte couldn’t help but suppose, against her will, that it might stop being so true in a short time, but then she stopped her damned train in its tracks again. she decided not to think about it.

instead, she leaned forward against the steering wheel and peered up, out at the sky, at the next red light.

“what’re you lookin’ at?” Becky leaned forward too. “is there a plane?”

Charlotte smiled a little and shook her head.

“no. i was looking at the stars.”

“oh,” Becky intoned softly. she seemed to take Charlotte’s words and apply them to her own methods of observation. “there’s a lot of them.”

the light turned green. Charlotte had to lean back and return her focus to the task at hand, but she nodded in agreement.

a lot was really a bit of an understatement. for some reason, whatever part of the city they were in seemed to have less light pollution, more visibility for them, and so the amount of stars able to be seen was a whole lot more than they were used to.

"we don't get to see stars that often, do we?" Becky asked, after a beat or two, now transfixed by the sight.

Charlotte glanced over. she brought her bottom lip in between her teeth for a brief second before her decision was made. 

she turned right instead of left at the next street.

"i get to see you every day," she said, with a shrug. "s'enough for me."

they both seemed to be skilled at understatement apparently, fluent in litotes. 

Becky was probably watching her with a more melted expression then, but Charlotte didn't check. she was trying to remember the directions, trying to see if she could navigate through the city without help from her phone. she didn't want to give any hints that their plans had changed until it was too late to go back. 

luckily, she managed. the universe didn't hate her entirely, not in the small things. just the overall picture. 

"um, Charlotte, i think you might've taken a wrong turn somewhere. why are we on some deserted road by a field?" the sound of a gasp came as Charlotte put the car in park but left the engine running. "is this how you kill me? you lulled me into a trap for all these years just to make me feel safe. i can't believe it."

"geez, and they say i'm dramatic." Charlotte shifted in her seat to be better facing Becky. "no, weirdo." she then unclicked her seatbelt and opened her door, after switching off the headlights. "i thought we could look at the stars."

she didn't wait for Becky's response. she knew she'd be followed. Becky had always said she'd follow Charlotte anywhere, and Charlotte believed her.

it only took a second and some more sounds of movement for that belief to hold true.

Becky came to stand beside her in front of the car. they both leant a little against the hood, arms braced backwards and supporting their weight as they gazed upwards.

the view was even better from there, in the more secluded, semi-countryside that Charlotte remembered driving past on the way into the city. 

the stars were shining and twinkling, winking and waving at them, happy to have company that appreciated their brightness and their abundance. the moon, sat comfortably among them, was almost full, missing part of its right edge, like it hadn't been shaded in all the way. it was still luminescent enough to cast the world, to cast them and the grass and the abandoned barn across the field, in a cool glow.

the air was a mild temperature, its humidity was low. it was the easiest to breathe for Charlotte than any kind had been in a while. 

she found that she felt fully at peace. of course, she knew it wouldn't last, but she'd started to appreciate fleeting things more and more as her sickness progressed.

a few lightning bugs blinked in and out of her line of vision, in her peripherals, and they drew her gaze down and over, to where they provided Becky with a backdrop of her own. Charlotte's recently-caught breath was whisked away again. before her was a likeness similar to that of the sky, where the lightning bugs were the stars, and Becky was the moon, sitting comfortably among them—glowing, ethereal, and breathtakingly beautiful. 

Charlotte could truly spend hours staring at Becky, if she were allowed, and she wished, in that moment, more than anything, that she was allowed. 

something stirred in her chest, but it wasn't the flowers for once. 

it was just that affection she held, ever-present, always persistent, as much a part of her as the color of her eyes and shape of her lips.

and it had been a long time since she had first stopped trying to tamp it down, so in that moment it grew and swelled up to the tops of her ears easily. 

when Becky glanced over, she wasn’t entirely surprised that Charlotte was already looking at her. she held the stare fully. 

the breeze brushed against their cheeks. a cricket chirped. leaves shuffled and ruffled together distantly. 

“hey,” Becky eventually broke their shared silence, their spell. “his comment, about you being a fifth wheel—.” 

“don’t worry about it.” 

“no. it—i didn’t like it. he shouldn’t have said it.” a slight shake of the head. “i—um... i just want you to know that what Sasha said applies to me too. i—i don’t care what happens or where we’re at in life. you always have a place with me. if you want it.”

Charlotte tilted her own head to the side. so that was why Becky had been frowning, huh?

how endearing. 

Charlotte’s lips quirked, kindly, as understanding as always. the affection stayed solid and steady.

”i know, Becks. i could never forget." she did a gesture of her own, between them. she made sure not to take up too much space. "there’s no better place to be, after all.”

Becky huffed out a quiet breath, an almost laugh.

”yeah, sure.” she turned her gaze back to where it had been before she saw Charlotte looking. "but good."

Charlotte nodded, utterly earnest, and then they fell back into the lull and lapse in words. 

they existed together, side by side, one and one. 

it was nice to not feel the burdens for a bit. everyone needed a break.

again, after an indeterminable amount of time, Becky broke the stillness, though not startlingly.

“you know, i’ve always wanted to dance in the moonlight. under the stars.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, mostly at the fact that the statement was pretty much a random musing, spoken aloud like a passing thought that was deemed worthy enough of receiving a vocal form.

uttering it softly enough for Charlotte to wonder if she heard correctly, Becky didn't take her eyes away from the sky.

there was a beat or two.

“well, what’s stopping you?" Charlotte asked, after she received no elaboration. "go dance.” she gestured again, vaguely forward with her hand. “you want me to dj for you?”

Becky shook her head then, with a hint of a smirk, another half of a laugh. Charlotte wanted her to wholly laugh, but it was late, and it was hard to laugh full-bellied during the darker hours. sometimes it was hard during any hour, and that was okay, so she didn't ask Becky to try harder.

“no, Charlie, i mean, like, slow dance.”

again, her voice was abnormally faint, like she was speaking something that meant a lot to her, and Charlotte, of course, paid more attention upon realizing that fact.

“well,” she repeated, just as low as Becky. “why haven’t you before?”

Becky shrugged lightly.

"dunno. waiting for the right person, i guess. a willing partner." something about her shoulders seemed remarkably weighed down. "he would laugh if i asked, so i just haven't."

Charlotte frowned, deep and disappointed, not in Becky, but in him. 

all wants and wishes, no matter how small or seemingly silly, needed to be fulfilled, or at least attempted at fulfilling.

that was _being in love 101,_ and she suddenly hated the thought of leaving Becky in his hands even more.

because Becky was so strong, so capable of taking care of herself, but Charlotte didn't want her to have to take care of herself all the time. she wanted Becky to have someone that would help her fulfill her small wishes, her large wishes, her passing desires and her deepest ones. she wanted Becky to never fear being laughed at for expressing herself, even if that laughter wasn't intentionally cruel. 

she wanted Becky to know that she was loved wholly and that there was someone who would dance with her in the moonlight, under the stars, if that was what she truly wanted.

so, she produced a careful, "well," for a third time, and she knew she sounded irrevocably tender. "i don't know if i'm who you had in mind, but i'm a willing partner." Becky finally, _finally_ met Charlotte's eyes. "granted, not very good, but still willing." that got Becky to smile. "and i'm not laughing."

she watched as Becky's throat shifted some, with her swallow. she waited, like she always did, like she always would for Becky.

eventually, Becky whispered, "no," but it was an utterance of agreement, a concession to Charlotte's last statement, a recognition of how sincere Charlotte was being. "you're not laughing."

Becky took some time for herself, to watch Charlotte too.

"alright, Flair," she murmured. "just don't step on my toes."

Charlotte let the grin that came instinctively take its place on her lips; it was rare in its appearances as of late.

"i won't. promise."

"with your pinky?"

"finger and toe."

she pushed up off of the hood, and she walked back to the driver's side of the car, sitting halfway in the seat and beginning to search the stations available to them. just as she started to think that she wouldn't find anything remotely suitable, a familiar series of guitar licks made her stop and finally turn the volume up. 

she got back out and made her way around the front of the vehicle again. when she was close enough, she offered her hand to Becky, and she tried not to give away any indication of how horribly her skin tingled at their initial contact.

"NSYNC, huh?" 

"it's a classic."

_when the visions around you bring tears to your eyes_

pulling Becky closer was the most natural of actions Charlotte could have ever performed; it was her real second nature.

_and all that surrounds you are secrets and lies_

wrapping her arms around Becky's waist was a close second, though. too close to truly count one over the other.

_i'll be your strength, i'll give you hope_

instead of returning the hold around Charlotte's neck, Becky did so around Charlotte's waist as well. she rested her cheek right over where Charlotte's heart was beating for her, bleeding for her always.

_keeping your faith when it’s gone_

they started to sway just barely, like they had all the time in the world, like the sun wouldn't rise and the day wouldn't change if they willed it not to. 

it was just them, the lightning bugs, the stars, the moon. the song filtering through the speakers could fade out, but they never would.

_the one you should call was standing here all along_

Charlotte flattened her palms against the small of Becky's back. she held her officially, firmly, and pressed her chin against the top of Becky's head almost too lightly to be felt.

Becky's fingers shifted some against her back. they grabbed loosely at the excess fabric of the hoodie Charlotte had put on after leaving the restaurant. 

_and i will take you in my arms_

Charlotte wanted to press even closer. she wanted to exist in no other way than she was right there in Becky's embrace, for the rest of her life. 

she wanted to know that Becky felt the same. she wanted to be told that she wasn't drowning alone.

but she knew she was being selfish. this was Becky's wish they were living in. her own wants didn't matter. not right then. 

_and hold you right where you belong_

she wondered, though, as she often did when they were alone, if maybe she should tell Becky everything she'd been hiding away. so that she could apologize, for her inability of keeping her promise to stay. so that she could apologize for keeping Becky in the dark for so long. 

but she didn't see how it would do either of them any good. not right then.

so she didn't solidify that wondering into anything else. 

_till the day my life is through_

the only thing she could honestly do was be in the moment. 

the only thing she could do was subtly tighten her grip, close her eyes, try to engrain the sensation of holding Becky as she was into her soul, so maybe she could remember it even in the afterlife, so she couldn't _possibly_ forget it in the afterlife. 

the only thing she could do was try to give Becky the memory of her as someone who was present. 

until she couldn't be any longer, she would be present for Becky. 

she would show her love. she would dance with her in the moonlight, under the stars. 

she would hold her, and she wouldn't laugh at her.

until she couldn't any longer, she would be all that Becky needed.

_this i promise you_

\---

two days later, Sasha went with Charlotte to the doctor, just like she said she would. 

thirty minutes in, they gave her medicine to take that helped slow it down, just like she said they would. 

after that, as a result, it became a little easier to eat, to breathe, to exist. but not by much. 

"you are aware that this is terminal, correct, Ms Flair?" 

Charlotte had nodded, and Sasha had squeezed her hand. 

"and you do not wish to go through with the medical removal process?"

her "no," came out roughly. 

the doctor sighed, almost sad, super quiet. Charlotte was sure she got tired of seeing so many cases like hers. she was sure it made it hard to sustain any hope in love and happiness. 

"though i advise it, from a medical and professional standpoint, Ms Flair, i cannot force you to undergo the operation, and i can also understand why you would refuse. however, i _do_ urge, that, if you have not already done so, you speak with the person you harbor these feelings for. a good percentage of the time, the patients that come to me would not even know of my existence if they did so."

Charlotte nodded again, but her eyes were skittish. she was too noncommittal, and they could all tell. 

"come see me again in a week, so that we can check up on the medication's effectiveness, alright?"

"alright."

it took approximately ten minutes into the car ride back to the hotel for Sasha to say, "she's right, you know," and Charlotte was honestly impressed she held out for even five. 

gone was Sasha's indulgence. she wasn't letting Charlotte go without a fight.

Charlotte hadn't expected her to, truly. it was what she simultaneously loved and hated about Sasha: her stubbornness, her strong will, her persistence. 

(obviously, at that specific point in time, she was leaning more towards the hate.)

she sighed to herself, much like the doctor had, though sadder maybe, more tired definitely. 

"Sash, we've been over this. i can't tell her."

Sasha's fingers curled in closer around the steering wheel. she didn't take her eyes off the road, but Charlotte could see the setting of her jaw just as well. 

"you can, and you _should_."

"no and no."

"Charlotte, i've literally been in your position. i didn't think there was any way that Bayley would love me back. i didn't want her to blame herself when i was gone. i know exactly what's going through your head right now. but—."

"but nothing, Sasha. Becky is  _engaged_. to be wed to someone else. to _him_." she pressed the tips of her thumb and forefinger to each side of the bridge of her nose. "hell, you were _there_ for the official decree."

“yeah, and i was _also_ there when she snuck away to call you. tell me, what, exactly, do you think it means that she went to call you not even an hour into the celebration for their engagement?”

“i don’t know. maybe that i’m her best friend? best friends share important things with each other.”

“Char, you and Becky are Bayley and i’s best friends, but we didn’t tell you until two days after we got engaged. we wanted to spend time in a bubble of privacy. why do you think it wasn't the same with them?”

Charlotte's own jaw ticked. she refused—utterly, wholeheartedly, stubbornly—to get her hopes up like she had before, when she had then been blindsided by the introduction of him as Becky's significant other, when she had been sent reeling and left confused and looking ridiculous. like a fool. already too lovesick and gone to be of any good to anyone else. 

"look, just—." she coughed and felt the familiar rattle, but nothing came. "let's just drop it, okay? my head is killing me right now. and my throat hurts."

but Sasha wouldn't drop it. Charlotte knew Sasha wouldn't. in a way, she knew that she _couldn't._

Sasha wasn't a quitter, and she certainly didn't like to lose things. the thought of losing Charlotte was probably far too much for her to bear. 

and Charlotte knew that. she just wished she could ignore it. 

she wished she could ignore all her problems. 

but she couldn't. and Sasha wouldn't dare let her. that's why she wasn't surprised at all when they got up to Charlotte's hotel room and Sasha finally said, “if you think she loves him over you, you’re fooling yourself.”

and there it was, laid out to bear: the crux of it all.

but Charlotte wouldn't let herself think about it. she'd thought about it enough to make her brain blister. 

she focused, instead, on how her lack of surprise didn't keep her bitterness from spiking sharply. she honed in on it and let it flash through her eyes hot and quick like lightning. 

“well, she’s not with me, is she, Sasha?” she bit out, turning on her heel to look at the woman, who was standing about ten feet away. “she’s  _with_ him. isn’t she?” she threw up her hands. “so, what does it _matter_?”

“it matters because you’re going to _die_ , Charlotte!” Sasha nearly shouted back, fully frustrated, taking all the steps required to close the distance and then grabbing ahold of the sides of Charlotte’s face. “do you understand that? have you really taken the time to process the fact that, if you don’t get this cured, you’re going to _die_?”

Sasha’s voice cracked, and Charlotte felt like the world slowed, as the heaviness of the words settled into the air. the red—pink, more like—tint to her view faded just as suddenly as it had come on. 

“i don’t think you’ve really let yourself process that part of the equation, Charlotte. and you need to, because you’re—you’re so _young_. and you’ve got so many things left to do in this world, so many things left to _give_ to this world. and you just—you have so many people that _love you_.” Sasha sniffed. “i mean, _fuck_ , Charlotte, _i love you_. i don’t want to lose you. Bayley doesn’t want to lose you. _Becky_ doesn’t want to lose you. your family? your other friends? Charlotte, it’s not just you on your own. you've made an impact on so many people's lives, and your absence will do the same. do you know that? have you thought about that in anything more than the abstract?”

Charlotte felt frozen solid. from her toes to the tips of her fingers, she couldn't move. Sasha's statement was an icy bucket of water thrown onto the hot bubble of denial Charlotte had been trying to maintain.

because, yes, Charlotte had thought about how this sickness, this curse, this cruelty, would result in her being gone, in her leaving a legacy too soon.

but even as her symptoms got a little harder to deal with, it felt distant. death was never supposed to feel immediate. it was never supposed to be near.

and Charlotte always felt so invincible in the ring, with her friends, next to Becky, that it was almost impossible for her to feel weakened by something like illness.

but Sasha was looking at her with such anguished eyes, trembling chin and all, and Charlotte felt like the weight of everything had just hit her like a truck.

she realized then, standing there with Sasha's hands on her face and silence ringing in her ears, that she _hadn’t_ let herself have time to really and truly feel _scared_. she'd let herself think about it, yes, in brief, short spurts of thought, when she was alone.

but she hadn't let herself feel scared. never scared. 

she had been resigned from the start, almost. it was her fate. she knew it to be so. or she thought it to be so. 

but when it got right down to it, Charlotte was human. 

humans feared the unknown, and there was nothing more unknown than death. 

so, when it got right down to it, Charlotte _was_ scared. she was terrified.

she either had to die—to literally suffocate from the amount of love she felt for her best friend—or she had to become a completely different person without that love for her best friend, which wasn't an option to begin with. 

she was in a lose-lose situation. she had been given too much good, she guessed, for any of it to last, for any of it to save her. 

it was all to be taken away. it was all a cruel trick. 

it was horribly unfair. unequivocally unfair.

Charlotte's stability suddenly wavered. it weakened and wouldn't hold steady any longer. it had been holding her up for so long, and it was tired.

when she thought about it, she was tired too. 

a sob broke away, out of the entanglement of roots and thorns in her lungs, and that was all it took. 

Charlotte finally broke down, really and truly, not halfway or halfhearted. her knees crumpled beneath her, and her arms barely stayed strong enough to latch onto Sasha as she fell. Sasha was quick enough to catch her and keep her from completely collapsing onto the floor; she lowered them both down more slowly. 

sturdy arms wrapped around the backs of her shoulders as she leaned fully into Sasha before her. she was half-lying across Sasha's lap, but Sasha didn't care about that at all. she also didn't seem to mind that Charlotte's sudden flow of tears was wetting her shirt. 

she just ran her fingers through Charlotte's hair. 

"Sash," Charlotte tried to say, through her emotion, through the overflowing of it all. 

Sasha stopped moving her hand through Charlotte's hair, to press her palm against the side of Charlotte's head instead, holding her against her chest more fully.

“i’m sorry,” Sasha breathed out, her voice soft and hurting. “i’m sorry.”

Charlotte tightened her grip around the woman’s waist. she hiccuped. she tried to remember what it was like to breathe without inhibition. 

“i’m scared.”

Sasha nodded.

“i know,” she whispered, into her forehead. “i know. i’m sorry.”

Charlotte's sobs morphed into coughs not long after, and it was that day that made her realize she truly was running out of time. 

\---

a pay-per-view was set to happen on Sunday. that's why they were all in the same city.

(it was an exact week after Charlotte was told of Becky's engagement.)

surprising to some, Charlotte wasn't going to be participating in an actual match herself. she was a lumberjack for the fight for the women's championship, and it was just as well, because she could hardly seem to keep active for extended periods of time. her health was deteriorating rapidly, like she'd held out as long as she could but her delaying of the inevitable was finally over. 

she'd spent the other days prior to Sunday, the days after her doctor's visit, warring with herself, battling against logic and love and fear, trying to figure out what she should do.

but she couldn't find an answer. every time she opened her mouth as if to let it all come out, nothing surfaced. no words. no petals. 

(the petals didn’t have a cue. they wouldn’t be called upon without notice. they came of their own accord.)

on one of the days, on Saturday, Charlotte had tried to create distance between her and Becky, but it hadn't stuck. her promise to be present kept knocking at the inside of her skull, reminding her of its existence.

Becky's eyes had watched her in a way that was too wounded to allow her to maintain it, so she'd come back with raspy apologies and sorrowful caresses of Becky's cheeks. she'd said she was trying to deal with family drama that was upsetting her, and she'd hated herself strongly enough to make her stomach churn, because she'd never been a liar before, and she'd definitely never told Becky anything but the truth. 

but times were desperate, and time was working against her. 

she didn't know what to do. 

she didn't feel one hundred percent. hell, she didn't even feel fifty percent.

she was drained, and she couldn't breathe.

but she knew the show had to go on.

so, she took the medication at the proper time, just in time for it to kick in for the show, and she drank some water.

she and Sasha clasped forearms in gorilla and said nothing. they didn't need to say anything.

Becky came through and saw, but their cue was signaled, so she had to mask her concern. she had to get in character, and Charlotte did too.

(and Charlotte loved getting into character. she loved letting all her real-world worries and emotions melt way. she guessed it was a form of escapism.) 

by the time Charlotte walked through the curtain, she had the proper facade in place. she was with her "allies" for the match, and she was smirking, smiling, pretending like nothing was wrong, as she had been doing for two and a half months. 

but she'd always known that nothing could last forever.

it's always said that nothing good can, so, certainly, nothing as tedious and tremulous as her concealment of her sickness could. 

it was just a fact of nature, a law almost. 

that horrible, horrible itch—the tickling that always intensified—made itself known at the back of her throat just as Naomi, at the forefront of them, went to open her mouth to speak into the mic. 

Charlotte's stomach dropped, and her smile did too. she tried to stifle it, but it was too strong. 

it was building. it was bound to boil over.

without knowing what else to do, Charlotte started to edge her way back towards the curtain. Becky noticed. she turned to her and met her eyes, like she was asking what was happening, what was wrong, why the urge to flee?

Charlotte shook her head just slightly, and she knew her panic was evident, like cracked lines forming from the epicenter of a blow.

Becky moved toward her instinctively, and in that instant, their characters were gone. it was just them. the real them.

Charlotte could do nothing but retreat as steadily as possible, hoping the attention wouldn't be on her, hoping she wouldn't give in to the urge to cough before she could get somewhere safer.

she managed to get into gorilla, but that was it.

her body took over. it needed to relieve itself too desperately to obey her anymore. her flowers wanted freedom, and they didn't care about who saw them, not like she did.

"Charlotte?" came the voice of Stephanie. "what're you—?"

Charlotte bent at the waist. her trembling fingers latched onto her knees for stability. she convulsed almost violently, and then the petals scraped at the insides of her lungs and throat as they came out.

they fluttered to the ground leisurely, though. beautifully, even. she hated them with such a burning passion; she was sick of them taunting her.

they were beautiful, but they were killing her. just like her love for Becky. and, at first, she had the resignation to acknowledge how poetic the parallels were. but now she was sick of it.

she wanted them to be as ugly as they felt, but they refused. they landed at her feet calmly. they hadn’t a care in the world.

similar in its slowness, a touch landed on her back and started to rub soothing circles into her muscles.

by the time she was finished, she was almost gasping; she felt lightheaded. there were tears clouding her vision, so she couldn't see who was helping her straighten back up, who was leading her away.

her heart was beating so hard that she couldn't hear them telling her to breathe, that it was alright.

but the hold around her waist was familiar, and she trusted it. she let it take her wherever. she didn't have much fight left in her, honestly.

"sit here, Char," was the soft instruction after a while, an eternity that spanned for probably a minute or two. "breathe, honey. it's okay. chin up. catch your breath."

Charlotte hadn't realized she was fully crying until a sob tried to establish a foothold between two of her ribs. it didn't manage it. it slipped out of her lips and fell to the floor just like the petals.

"breathe, it's okay."

cool hands pressed against her cheeks. a wet towel was smoothed over her warm skin.

Charlotte hiccuped. a stray petal caught on her lip, and she reached up to take it between her fingertips.

"Chrysanthemum," she said after laying eyes on it, almost robotically, a simple spouting of a fact. “white.”

 _truth. honesty_.

what a slap in the face.

Charlotte wished she had enough energy to be angry, but she didn't. 

she also couldn't have focused on that anger if it was present anyway. 

because Bayley was looking at her with an acute ache. as if she wanted to plead with Charlotte for something she couldn't provide.

like she wanted to ask her to stay, though she was relatively unmoving from her seat.

Charlotte released a rattling sigh.

"cat's out of the bag, i guess." Bayley's bottom lip wobbled. "i'm sorry. i know you're more of a dog person."

her joke fell flat, but she knew it would. everything seemed to be falling away from her. she was losing her grip.

“‘m sorry i didn’t tell you,” she mumbled, after the lack of response.

Bayley shook her head then.

“don’t apologize,” she answered, the syllables thick with emotion. “Sasha told me how it was for her. i understand.”

Charlotte’s tongue poked out to wet her lips. the metallic tang of blood tingled across it, and she wondered how many of the petals she left behind were stained with red. she felt bad for making other people clean it up. it was supposed to be her pain to bear alone. 

“Sasha’s been helping," she admitted. "she promised not to tell anyone. ‘m sorry i made her keep a secret from you.”

“stop apologizing.”

Charlotte pressed her lips together then. she would’ve flinched if Bayley’s voice wasn’t so gentle.

they let a silence settle over them. Charlotte’s breathing took up most of the sound. she was still struggling. she was always struggling.

after a little while, Bayley asked, “you’re not going to tell her?”

and Charlotte’s eyelids slid closed.

she inhaled through her nose. her chest rose and fell in a semi-stuttering motion. she shook her head.

“no.”

it was still her answer. it was firm in resolve, no matter how much she kept coming back to try to shake its foundations. 

she wished it hadn’t made Bayley look like she’d been punched in the gut.

“you should.”

“i can’t.”

Bayley seemed to want to argue, but she decided against it; like Sasha had been when she first found out, Bayley was indulgent. she wasn’t going to push Charlotte.

instead, she opened her arms some, in a silent question, and Charlotte answered by lifting hers as well, already leaning forward as Bayley closed the space between them.

she was still sitting, on a relatively weird height of a bench, so her cheek was against Bayley’s chest, right over the sternum, over the steady beating of a healthy heart, so different from when Becky had been in a similar position with her as they'd danced.

she was fully being held, with Bayley wrapping an arm around her shoulders and an arm around the back of her head, and it was a nice feeling. she knew it couldn’t last forever, but with Bayley it felt like it could get close. Bayley wouldn’t let go if Charlotte asked her not to, and Charlotte didn’t know what she’d done in past lives to deserve the friends she had in this one, but she was grateful it’d happened. 

she was still so sorry for having to leave them.

she subtly tightened her grip.

they stayed there together, in that same position, until someone came knocking on the door.

Charlotte pulled away and nodded a split second after it sounded out, because she knew Bayley’s gaze was already on her, asking if it was alright. she also knew whose knock it was.

Becky’s eyes were wide and worried when the door was opened. they met Charlotte’s immediately. 

she looked disheveled in a way that wasn't related to their job. Charlotte could tell that she was aware, that she had put pieces together from context and from witness accounts.

the petal sitting at her side, on the bench, was extra emphasis.

Charlotte's breath hitched slightly with her next inhale, and Becky’s hands were on her face quickly after. but the motion wasn’t abrupt. nothing Becky did was abrupt.

she was always smooth, always careful, always meaningful. at least, when it came to Charlotte.

their gazes found each other again, and Becky appeared just as breathless as Charlotte felt. she’d ran there, of course, even while her concern was already stealing the air away from her.

she was panting. she didn't seem to know what to say. she seemed to want to say everything she was thinking all at once.

instead, she whispered, “scale?”

she wanted to know how bad Charlotte felt right then, in that very second. 

and the thought of lying to Becky again was unbearable, so Charlotte said, “eight,” rather hoarsely.

Becky nodded, taking the information, absorbing it like it was her own. 

“what do you need?”

Charlotte wanted to say, “You,” but she refrained. that would've been unfair.

“water?”

“i got it,” Bayley said, from behind Becky, who still wouldn’t take her eyes off of Charlotte.

the door shut quietly as she went, but Becky was searching Charlotte's features too intently to pay it much mind. she was looking for answers maybe, for signs of the sickness. now, with the knowledge of its existence, she seemed to be able to pick up on how Charlotte was paler than natural, how sunken the skin around her eyes was, how exhausted she truly looked.

she appeared to feel guilty. Charlotte could see it seeping into the lines of her face.

she should’ve noticed sooner is exactly what she was thinking, and she had so many obvious questions swirling around within her, that Charlotte was sure at least one would spill over. she wouldn’t blame her for it. she would probably tell Becky anything she wished to know.

so, she expected a question.

"can i hold you?"

but that particular one was not what Charlotte had been anticipating. it nearly startled her physically, a jolt to her nerves.

her throat bobbed.

she contemplated saying no. really, she did.

she contemplated saying it was best if Becky didn’t hold her, because, while, yes, she would be holding Charlotte together, she would also be contributing to her insides being torn apart, and that would be detrimental.

but Charlotte’s tiredness was winning. and whenever she was tired, at least in the past, it was Becky she leaned on. it was Becky who let her snuggle in and sleep against her. (obviously, Charlotte was aware that it was a big contributor to her current predicament, and that’s why she really did contemplate saying no.)

but then she remembered her earlier utterance of, “no,” to Bayley. her recurring answer to “are you going to tell her?”

and she realized that things weren’t going to change. so she had nothing left to lose, did she? 

she didn't think so. 

and Becky had kept watching her, so, finally, when she nodded, it didn't take but the passing blink of an eye until she felt a shiver roll through her spine. the warmth of Becky’s body and arms was wrapped around her, and it was a sharp contrast to the cool fingers that came to rest at the nape of her neck, cradling and caring.

Charlotte bit her tongue and tried not to cry again.

she exhaled shakily and moved to return the embrace.

she closed her eyes. she didn't keep track of how long they remained like that.

she thought about their dance in the moonlight, and she wished the moment had actually lasted forever. she wished they were there, in a different embrace, in a different kind of quiet. 

but Charlotte rarely got what she wished for. it wasn't meant to be. 

they couldn't go back. only forward. towards the inevitable. 

they both felt the knowledge of that settling over them like a blanket, thick and warm. it was impossible to ignore.

Bayley still hadn't come back with the water by the time Becky finally seemed to have to ask a different question. 

“how long?”

it was softly-uttered and hesitant. it didn't truly want an answer, because the answer could do nothing but hurt. 

Charlotte gave it anyway.

"about two and a half months."

the inhale that came was abrupt and harsh. Charlotte tried to strengthen her hold reassuringly. she wanted to soothe all of the turmoil that was stirring itself within Becky's body. she always had.

she was able to picture the ticking of Becky's jaw, even with her eyes closed.

“and you didn’t want to tell me?”

this question was tender and throbbing, an open wound. it made that guilt in Charlotte's veins sharpen into spikes that stabbed mercilessly at her from the inside out. 

“it’s—it’s not that. i just—i didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“but Sasha knows.”

Becky stated it simply. she'd truly put the pieces together in a short amount of time. or maybe she'd talked to Sasha before she'd gotten to Charlotte and Bayley's hiding place. 

either way, Charlotte couldn't deny it. 

“because she walked in on me coughing into the toilet.”

Becky's fingers flexed subtly against the back of her neck, an unconscious, involuntary action.  

“so last Monday, when you disappeared. and then when you were talking alone in the corridor?”

Charlotte swallowed thickly.

“yeah.”

a broken sort of noise emanated from Becky then, and Charlotte felt such an acute sense of pain at the sound of it, she wondered if her theory about soulmates was true. she wondered if Becky was her soulmate, as well as being the love of her life. she knew it was possible for both to be one-sided. she was living proof. 

Becky was probably her soulmate. Becky was definitely the love of her life. 

but she wasn't Becky's.

"god, Charlie," Becky whispered, pulling back so she could cup Charlotte's face in her hands once more. "why'd you try to go through this alone? why didn't you  _tell me_. you—i mean, you could d—." Becky choked herself up. she sobbed in almost the exact way Charlotte had earlier. "i had no idea. and i—i could _lose you_. you didn't think i should know? you were just going to let me wake up one day without you?"

"'m sorry," Charlotte murmured, because she was, because it was all she could seem to say, after so long. "'m sorry."

Becky's eyes were flitting back and forth between Charlotte's own, like she just couldn't comprehend any of it, like she was hoping it would be a joke—cruel and callous, but a joke nonetheless. her tears were brimming at the lids, spilling over onto her cheeks without hesitation, and Charlotte's followed suit. 

she reached up to wipe Becky's away, just as Becky wiped hers away. 

"'m sorry."

"are you going to tell them? have you talked to them? please say you will."

"Becks, i—." Becky's face crumbled in on itself. she could discern the meaning in Charlotte's tone before it even truly picked up pace. "i can't tell them."

"Charlotte," Becky turned the two syllables over on her tongue as if they were something special, a sacred thing meant to be preserved. "Charlotte, please."

"i'm sorry. i can't."

Becky's chest shuddered. she nearly gasped for air.

"i'm sorry," Charlotte repeated. 

over and over.

"i'm sorry."

it truly was all she could say. 

"i'm sorry."

until Bayley finally returned, Charlotte kept saying it.

"i'm sorry."

the apologies didn't do much, though. Charlotte hadn't honestly expected them to. 

but, still, through it all, Becky tried to stay strong for her. she tried to keep her emotions contained, as much as possible. she tried to blink away her tears. she tried to be the steady, unmoving rock she always compared Charlotte to. 

she kept a hand on Charlotte's back as she drank her water. she asked where her medicine was, and she went to get it while Charlotte rinsed her mouth out and washed her face clean of make up and tear stains.

she was already trying to help, trying to give Charlotte everything she needed. 

but when Charlotte had to go to the medic, when she had to talk to Stephanie and Hunter and Vince, Becky nearly didn't let her go. 

her grip was born out of fear. Charlotte was slipping through her fingers—she had been for a while—and Becky was just fighting to try to get her hold back. 

she was blindsided and broken-hearted, and Charlotte understood. she did.

but the conversation of her declining health, the end of her career, the lack of a retirement match or induction to the Hall of Fame, had to be held. 

and according to Vince, it had to be held alone, without Charlotte's support system of three pillars, without Becky and Sasha and Bayley. 

to the four of them, it just seemed like more salt in the wound. 

sure, Charlotte wasn't the first wrestler to be rendered useless from the disease, but that didn't mean they had to lack any sympathy. 

the absence of her friends at her side made everything sting and burn more. it left a bitter taste in her mouth. her fingers felt cold, and they needed something to hold. 

when it was over, when she entered the hall, Becky was there, out of her gear, in sweats and a hoodie that had been Charlotte's at some other distant time in the past. 

she had the keys to Charlotte's car in her hands, and Charlotte briefly wondered why she didn't see her engagement ring, but then there were open arms ready for her, and she walked right into them.

she buried her face in Becky's hair. she didn't care that her nose tickled against the strands.

she let some of her tension seep away, for just a second. she knew Becky would hold her up in the absence of it. 

she tried to find the right words to string together. 

"they said—."

but Becky told her: "we don't have to talk about it now, love," and she smoothed some of the wrinkles between Charlotte's eyebrows away with her thumbs. "let's just get you to sleep, yeah?"

Charlotte nodded. she let herself be led, to the car, to her room. 

Becky kept a maximum of two feet between them, and a minimum of none. she didn't want to stray far, in the case that she needed to be there in an instant, if a knee should give out, if a cough should spur itself into a full-force fit.

Becky was scared Charlotte would disappear from right beside her, honestly, and Charlotte was able to read that as easily as she used to be able to breathe. 

so, once she was in her bed and Becky was about to go, reluctantly, Charlotte asked, "will you stay?"

because they both wanted it. (though Charlotte's reasons were glaringly selfish.)

Becky was with her without hesitation. she slipped under the covers and into place next to Charlotte as if there was nowhere else she felt she belonged. 

when her head settled against Charlotte's chest, Charlotte hoped her heartbeat could hold steady enough to be soothing, to act as music good enough for Becky to listen to. 

she feared that with her failing health came her failing promise to be all that Becky needed. 

because the time would come where she couldn't be what she was supposed to be, and she knew it was around the corner. 

but the present night didn't seem to be that time. Becky seemed content with the tempo her heart held, so Charlotte was content with it too.

she fell asleep some time later, once the shapes swirling against the darkness of the ceiling spelled out her thoughts one, two, three times over. once Becky had surely drifted off into unconsciousness.

it was the best sleep Charlotte had gotten in two and a half months. it was the most relaxed she'd felt in two months and one week. 

she still woke up twice. 

the first was because she started coughing.

the initial few were gentle enough to merely wake Becky, instead of startling her up and away. but when the coughs got more intense, she pulled back. she left the bed in the middle of the darkness and came back with water and two of Charlotte's pills. 

she rubbed her hand across the backs of Charlotte's shoulders. she whispered almost nonsensical promises that it was alright, it _would_ _be_ alright, Charlotte was safe, she was with her all the way, until the end of time. 

no petals presented themselves. they seemed to shy away from their cause. they didn't want to look Becky in the eye. 

Charlotte was grateful. she breathed raggedly and took the medicine, drank the water, did the routine. 

she gave Becky a gravelly, "thank you," and she was so glad that it was too dark in the room to really see, because she was sure the emotion on the woman's face would be enough to spark up more struggle in her lungs. 

she was only able to make out the motion of a faint nod.

"sorry i woke you."

"i'm not."

Charlotte didn't try to argue. she swallowed her guilt whole, because Becky refused to take it. 

they fell back asleep not long after. the exertion was enough to knock Charlotte out for days usually; she just never let it. 

the second time she woke was not nearly as rough. 

she became aware of the mattress's movement behind her, and how she'd changed positions some way, to be facing the wall. she was curled in on herself, small, vulnerable.

she blinked her eyes open sluggishly. the fear that she'd been left alone was fleeting. she felt Becky's presence soon after. she smelled the scent Becky carried on her skin.

she heard Becky sigh not long after, slow and sad, like she was seriously about to cry.

a light touch brushed across the bare skin of Charlotte's shoulder. fingertips danced delicately over the lines of her muscles.

“please don’t stop fighting, Charlie,” was the whisper, almost too quiet to hear. Becky was finally letting herself feel again, after the initial hours of strengthening herself for Charlotte's needs. Charlotte bit down on her tongue. "i know it gets tiring, the fight does. but _please_..." her voice strained and trailed off. it tried to run away from its own pain. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

Charlotte had to stop biting down on her tongue so she could bite back a whimper instead.

the urge to roll over and wrap herself around Becky was strong enough to feel crushing, but she stayed still.

another sigh sounded, and Charlotte wondered if Becky was about to leave, or at least go to the other bed.

but then strong arms slipped around her waist, and Becky tucked in close. her nose pressed lightly into the back of Charlotte's neck. 

Charlotte kept her position. she wanted to let Becky have her private moment of fear, her reassurance to herself that Charlotte was there beside her, with her, not going anywhere for the time being. 

she also didn't want Becky to know she was awake, because she didn't want to have to make another promise she probably wouldn't be able to keep. 

the burden was always with the promises she couldn't keep.


	6. 'cause, baby, when i sleep, i dream of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Please Notice" by Christian Leave.
> 
> \---
> 
> this turned into more of a filler chapter than previously anticipated but oh well.

_and, baby, when you sleep, do you dream of me?_

_and, when you're awake, do you think of me?_

_i need to know, how do you feel?_

\---

they couldn't give Charlotte a proper goodbye.

that's what they had said during the meeting.

she had been sitting in a chair with no one next to her, feeling hot and cold, overflowing and numb, all at once. and that’s what they’d told her.

she'd expressed how she'd rather not divulge to the whole world that she was dying, and they'd said their hands were tied because of that.

they’d said they couldn't give a proper goodbye to someone in front of the whole world if they weren't going to tell the whole world _why._  and Charlotte understood that. truly, she did.

but that didn’t mean it sucked less: like a vacuum twisting her insides and taking all of their vitality.

no, understanding something never really meant that the something sucked less. and this was no different. so it sucked a lot. it sucked big time.

the salt was in the wound, and it was rubbed in deep. it was settling past her skin, in her bones and nerves, and she’d had to restrain herself from flinching right there in her seat.

she was still so close to crying, right there on the edge, and she was barely holding it together.

but when they'd said they were sorry, she'd believed Hunter, and she'd believed Stephanie, and she'd decided to trust that Vince was being sincere as well. because there was no point in being distrustful anymore. she didn’t have the energy.

after all, it wasn’t really their fault, was it? they were all pawns in the universe’s long game, and so that’s who she was back to blaming.

the universe. the cruel asshole that created crisis and chaos and coincidence.

she blamed it, and she had every right to.

because, first, it was going to make her leave too soon, and then it wasn't even going to let her leave in the right way.

she had unfinished business and loose ends. and so would her family and friends, once she was gone.

the company had to treat her illness like a typical private matter. she was going to be given a fake injury, and that would explain her absence to the public.

they would probably give her a tribute after it was all said and done, but Charlotte found that she just wished she'd known that the last match she'd wrestled in had been her last.

she would've made sure to revel in it just a little more.

she would've looked at the faces longer, felt each bump more thoroughly, given it two hundred percent instead of her usual one hundred and ten.

she probably would've cried, but that was okay. it was normal to cry at the end of something.

she at least would've gotten to _know_ that it was the end. and she felt that would’ve been more than fair.

but life was not one to give disclaimers or warnings. it was never fair.

she hadn't known that her last match was her _final_ match, and that was just how things were. she couldn't go out to the ring and perform any more. her health, her doctor, Sasha and Becky and Bayley and everyone else wouldn't let her.

her father had specifically told her that if she even tried anything, he’d come out of retirement just to beat her up, and that had made her smile, watery as it was. she had made a promise that she wouldn’t, that she would stay in her spot, and she intended to keep it.

so, on the following Tuesday, two days after everyone in the business found out, she had come to terms with it all—she told herself she had.

she was ready to film her segment and then go. she had an appointment with her doctor, and they were supposed to be trying this carbon dioxide treatment that would harm the plants within her and stunt their growth.

she'd been told that it would probably hurt, that she'd be in pain for the twenty-four hours following, and she really wanted to get it over with.

(Becky was to go with her, though, and that would probably make the pain a little less sharp.

or, maybe, it would make it worse. depending on how it was looked at. 

again, Charlotte didn't know.)

there were so many things she was unsure of in those days, and that meant that the things she _was_ sure of were even more hyper-focused.

like how, at the arena, she had to very intentionally ignore all of the eyes on her.

because, unsurprisingly, the news had spread like wildfire. and, unsurprisingly, the heat of it was burning her up. it was making her uncomfortable. she kind of wanted to crawl out of her skin.

she kept herself isolated, because she knew that any interactions she had would be shifted and slanted to accommodate her sickness, and she hated that. she didn’t want people to look at her different, treat her different, talk to her different, but it was another thing she couldn’t change.

she was sick, and everyone knew. everyone pitied her. she was a tragedy that was still living, and she couldn’t escape the implications of that.

but she still tried.

she still isolated herself.

she made sure to sit alone in catering, while waiting for her time to get ready, and no one attempted to join her. they respected her boundaries. or maybe they were just scared to overstep.

it didn't matter either way. Charlotte was just thankful for the silence. the only person she truly wanted at her side was Becky, and Becky had meetings to go to.

there were always meetings. they were always moving.

and, god, they all did deserve a moment of rest, didn't they?

it wasn't just Charlotte that was tired.

that was one of the things she was sure of.

just as sure and solid as the hand that came to be in front of her, extended out towards her without warning. or there probably had been warning. Charlotte was just prone to zoning out.

she blinked.

her eyes forcibly focused themselves back in, on the white, styrofoam cup presented before her. a steaming brown liquid, presumably a type of tea, met her gaze. then a pair of eyes, kind and quiet.

Charlotte’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. she didn’t reach out yet.

“i had it a few years back,” Billie said simply, as explanation, with a gentle lifting of her shoulders. “i remember how it feels. this helps. i promise.”

Charlotte swallowed some. she nodded and took the cup from the woman’s hands.

as she went to take a cautious sip, Billie sat down across from her, and she watched her knowingly, as relief visibly relaxed her face, as some of her ever-present tension smoothed away for the first time in months.

Charlotte pulled the cup back and looked at it as if it were a marvel, a miracle in her very own hands. the way it coated the inside of her throat with warmth and soothed the stinging, the soreness and irritation, almost made her want to cry.

(she didn’t. that would’ve been too many times at her workplace in too short a timespan. but she wanted to, in relief.)

instead, she just continued to nurse the drink, and they both sat in relative silence for a few minutes. Billie seemed content to just provide her with company, so Charlotte didn’t fight her on it.

after a while, though, when Charlotte’s throat felt almost normal, she said, “thank you,” and, yeah, her voice was still hoarse, but she was positive it was just a permanent fixture in her tone at that point.

so, she paid it no mind, and Billie did the same.

Billie simply smiled at her, a sentiment of softness that her character didn’t allow her to show often, surprising to some, but not to Charlotte.

“it’s no problem,” she reassured. "like i said, i remember.”

Charlotte nodded again with another swallow, this one rougher than the last. she glanced down to her fingers over the cup, because Billie's gaze suddenly felt too weighted.

anywhere between a minute and an hour went by, and then Charlotte decided to fill the lull, because she supposed she didn't have anything to lose.

"you, uh..." she glanced up. "how long ago? for you?"

"about four years."

Billie didn't elaborate. she didn't know if Charlotte wanted her to.  

she was still being cautious of Charlotte's boundaries, but it wasn't in the way Charlotte had been dreading from other people. it was in the way that meant Billie was, indeed, familiar with how it felt to be in her position.

and Charlotte didn't know how to express how grateful she was for that, so she figured continuing the conversation was the least she could do, though she was aware it would probably stretch into something more meaningful as a result.

she cleared her throat, for the thousandth time.

"Peyton?"

Billie nodded once more.

"yeah. Peyton."

her voice held the same rhythm of reverence that Charlotte's did for Becky, that Sasha's did for Bayley.

it made Charlotte's toes curl into the soles of her shoes.

she couldn't bring herself to ask any more questions, to ask for more details.

but Billie provided them.

“i thought i was doing the right thing too, you know,” she said. “by not telling anyone who it was. i thought i was going to die with the secret.”

and Charlotte shifted uncomfortably in her seat. because the similarities, between her and Billie and Sasha, in their stories, were so undeniable.

the disease was a consistent tale, it seemed. it had recurring themes. it lacked originality, really.

but it switched it up sometimes, and that was evident in the fact that Sasha and Billie had happiness. and Charlotte didn't.

Sasha and Billie were staying. and Charlotte wasn't. 

not everyone could win. and Charlotte was an example. 

Sasha and Billie were the exception, so they were staying.

Charlotte was the average, bound to be another statistic.

and she wasn't staying, but in that moment she didn't make her gaze leave, because Billie's face took on a faraway look, a haunted one, that caused Charlotte’s bones to ache too sharply to dismiss, like a crime would be committed if she were to ignore it.

“i got close, even. the doctors told me i had about a month left, but i accidentally let it slip right to her face that i loved her before another week passed.” Billie chuckled some, still serious somehow. “i didn’t think there would ever be a chance that she’d love me back, though. she was my best friend. she was with someone else. and how could i compete with that, right?”

Billie's eyes came back to Charlotte’s then, and their heaviness pressed against Charlotte’s chest. they made her feel as if she’d just been grabbed ahold of.

she was struck still.

she was transparent.

“i—i don’t know what—.”

Billie's stare turned pointed, and Charlotte’s lie got caught between her teeth. she released a slow breath in defeat. she let her eyelids slide closed.

so, everyone knew, huh? she was that obvious? that pathetic and that hopeless.

she was that far gone and everyone could tell.

she guessed that it only made sense.

she’d stopped trying to fight how tender her eyes got when looking at Becky years before, and she guessed she’d also forgotten to keep hiding it too. she’d left it out there for open observation, and openly observe it everyone did.

so, it was her fault, truly, and now there was nothing she could do to change it.

she exhaled slowly; something that was becoming a habit.

“i can’t tell her,” she said, another habit, harder to break. “if she doesn’t love me back, then the only good it does is make her blame herself for it all, and i can’t do that to her.”

“do you think she won’t find out at some point after you’re gone?” Billie asked; it was the first time Charlotte had been presented with that possibility. “and what if she does love you back, and she finds out she could’ve saved you when it’s already too late? can you do that to her?”

Charlotte’s eyes blinked back open, they brimmed with sudden tears. a shockwave shuddered through her and made her skin tingle.

“i’m not trying to upset you,” Billie whispered. “and i’m not trying to intrude. i just thought that maybe hearing it from someone who’s been through it, who was doing the same thing, might help.” Charlotte nodded on instinct, a reassurance that she wasn’t upset with Billie, just upset with the cards she’d been dealt. (she really had always sucked at card games, though. maybe it wasn’t only the hand to blame.) “i—um… i just want you to see that either way things go, everyone hurts. the best thing to do is lay it all out on the table. to say you tried everything and to leave no regrets for anyone."

Charlotte tried to take a drink again, but the aching in her throat was from emotion this time, and it wouldn’t be soothed. it refused to settle. the tension in her muscles ached and arched through her nerves mercilessly. she felt like she could snap in two, like she could crack open and expose her inner garden to the world at any instant.

that acute pain returned to its position behind her left eye. it jabbed tauntingly, fenced with an unarmed opponent to earn useless points.

when Charlotte uttered, “if she loved me back,” the words came out throbbing, because it was the first time she’d actually entertained the thought. she rubbed one of her thumbs over the other. “wouldn’t she have it too?”

Billie tilted her head, thorough with thought.

“it only affects those who think they don’t deserve to have the love returned, i think. something along those lines, at least. maybe just people who think that it makes sense. i’m not sure.”

Charlotte inhaled, not sharply but not smoothly. she had to set the cup down because her hands started shaking. her teeth scraped together as she went to tighten her jaw.

she flattened her palms on the tabletop, and Billie saw how tremulous the motion was. she softened impossibly further. she metaphorically drew back.

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably sick of having these types of conversations."

Charlotte nodded before correcting herself.

"yeah, i am, but i'm—it's alright. you're fine, i mean." she forged a smile onto her lips, a little stiff but still sincere. "i'm... i'm really glad that it worked out for you. both of you."

Billie took the change in focus without fight. she nodded and smiled too, still gentle, still kind.

"me too." she reached out across the table then, to lay her hand across Charlotte's own, faintly. "i hope i will say the same to you soon."

Charlotte's eyes ducked away. Billie withdrew her hand and started to stand.

"i'll send you the recipe for the tea. it's recommended that you drink it at least three times a day."

"thank you," Charlotte said again, and she hoped that Billie caught on to all of the meanings the two words held. the superficial and the significant.

she seemed like she did, at least, as she gave a last incline of her head and walked away, as quietly as she'd approached.

Charlotte watched her go, back to a table across the room. she noticed when Peyton made her way over after only about a minute, and she observed how she leaned down to place a kiss on Billie's forehead in a fashion that was so familiar and routine that Charlotte's heart twinged, with longing.

through that longing, she was able to feel a little gladness, at the fact that happy endings _did_ exist. after all, the proof _was_ right in front of her, with Billie and Peyton, with Sasha and Bayley. and she was glad for it, glad for them.

but that longing was still present, it was more pressing, and it wouldn’t leave. even though it was becoming clearer, with each passing day, that she probably wouldn’t be awarded a happy ending herself, she couldn’t rid herself of the longing for it. just like she couldn’t rid herself of the flowers.

and, man, she really was just dealt a bad hand.

she sighed and stood, with the cup back in her grasp.

she kept her gaze down and away from everyone as she made her way out of the room and to glam.

it was a well-known route for her so she didn’t really need to look. she'd walked it thousands of times. sometimes accompanied by friends, sometimes not.

and this was her last trek. she felt each step like a resounding echo, reverberating within the frame and edges of her body.

sitting in the chair, getting her hair and makeup done, was familiar too. but the hairdresser and the makeup artist had to work harder to cover up how much her sickness was taking from her, and she almost wanted to apologize.

but they didn’t seem to mind—they hid it well if they did—so she didn’t. and, by the end of it all, she still looked good.

it was her final moment on the big screen—in the present sense, at least—and she deserved to look good.

(she was glad she was finally getting something she deserved.)

when the cue was to come soon, she got in her spot.

her heart rattled around her rib cage desperately as she waited, like it wanted to get away from what it knew it had to go through. Charlotte didn't blame it.

she inhaled a slow breath through her nose and let it out shakily through her mouth.

when it was time, her character was on.

she recited her lines.

she said she was so happy to have made history with the women's division and even more so with the four horsewomen. she said she was grateful to have been champion as many times as she had been and even more so to have been able to follow and surpass her father's footsteps.

all of her initial words were nothing but the truth, and it was the form of goodbye they were able to give her.

but then she went on to say that she was looking forward to making more history, to winning more championships, to continuing her legacy. and that is where the truth departed.

not that anyone else knew that. at least, not that the WWE Universe knew that.

(she hated that lying seemed to be her new state of being.)

when the attack came, it came from the side, and she sold it well.

she was in good hands too.

Natalya had never steered her wrong, and she certainly didn't steer her wrong then. Charlotte couldn't have thought of a better person to send her off.

and that's why, before it was even over, her tears of pain were almost real. clutching at her "injured" ribs in agony wasn't much of a stretch.

she was highly aware, this time, that it was the end.

and when Becky and Naomi and Asuka ran in to fight Nattie back, Charlotte let out a true sob, and she didn't let herself feel ashamed of it.

Naomi's hands were the ones that stayed on her until the cameras shut off. Naomi's hands were the ones that helped her sit back up. Naomi's hands wiped away the smudge of mascara that had formed with the falling of her tears.

"you got it, Queen," she said quietly. "you're good. take your time."

Charlotte nodded. she crooked her knees up some so that she could place her elbows on them and swipe her fingers over her lips briefly, as she tried to rein it all back in.

the cameramen and producers left. because the deed was done, but mostly because privacy was what she needed.

her next inhale caught a little, somewhere in a corner of her chest, and another touch landed on the backs of her shoulders.

Charlotte leant fully into it. she sunk into the offered embrace like all her strength had been seeped from her as soon as the lights dimmed, and, truthfully, it had.

her head was throbbing, and so was her chest.

but she didn't pay attention to either.

because Becky was firm against her. and Naomi was still at her other side, and Asuka and Nattie were sitting in front of her.

they were all there together, in silence. her friends were there with her, and Charlotte loved them, wholly.

her father had always said if she was able to find friends in the business, she'd be counted as lucky. and she knew she was.

no one moved until she did, and even then, it was to help her to stand.

Becky's hold around her waist was still strong, strong enough to make Charlotte think that that's probably where her own strength had gone.

and only when Becky was sure Charlotte was stable again did she let go, to step back a foot or two, to allow Charlotte to hug the others.

"i love you, Queen," Naomi said, into her ear. "every moonsault is for you. until you return."

Charlotte sniffled.

"i love you too."

"we haven't had our last match together," Nattie declared next, after pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. "i promise you that, Charlotte."

Charlotte's throat ached. she couldn't answer, because she couldn't bear to crush the certainty the woman seemed to hold in her heart.

she was crying again when Asuka brought her into a hug, and as their eyes met, her chin wobbled.

"you are the only Queen." Charlotte smiled minutely. "then. now. forever."

she barely got out her whisper of, "thanks, Empress,” but it was enough.

Asuka leaned forward and rested their foreheads together for a second, and then she stepped back.

Charlotte didn't have to stand alone, without the support of someone's arms around her, for long.

Becky stepped into place once more, under Charlotte’s arm, right at her side.

Charlotte knew it was time for them to leave. she still had her doctor's appointment to go to.

but when Becky softly asked, "ready to go?” she was looking up at her like she'd comply with whatever Charlotte indicated, like she wouldn’t force her to go to the appointment if she didn’t want to, like she would wage wars if she were asked, and Charlotte had to swallow around an attempt at uprising by one of her petals.

she nodded.

"yeah. let's go."

and so they did.

without announcement. without further procession.

no one said, "Charlotte has left the building."

it was just a quiet slump into the passenger seat of the rental car. a last inhale of the smell that arenas just seemed to inherently hold.

a closing of her eyes as the ride to the doctor began.

it was underwhelming, anticlimactic, and undeserved.

and there was nothing she could do but accept it.

_\---_

it didn't take long for Charlotte to know that she hadn't been lied to when she was told the treatment would be painful.

it only took that first treatment to make her realize that ‘painful’ was really a bit of an understatement.

truthfully, it was near excruciating.

it was having exactly what is not meant to be inhaled—carbon dioxide—applied to the part of the body that does the inhaling—her lungs—and it was absolutely horrible.

she was obviously put to sleep for the direct process, but the after effects were just as bad.

it left her chest feeling worse than sore, a stabbing pain starting under her sternum and spreading out like intentionally torturous tendrils.

each time she breathed was close to that agony she had been faking before, but holding her breath was worse, so she just had to grit her teeth and keep going.

her doctor had told her that with the way her case was progressing, they needed to do two sessions in one, and the thought of that, while she was lying in the hospital bed after the first one, made her cry.

she didn't want to do it again. she was fully exposed and vulnerable to the pain at that point, because they couldn't give her painkillers until after both sessions were done, and she did _not_ want to do it again.

but she knew she had to, because she was in the final stages of the sickness, and that meant that it was affecting her more fully than before.

there was no known case of the disease where it lasted more than five months, and Charlotte was closing in on the end of the third. most people didn't last for the entirety of the fourth.

(that was why a cure was near impossible to find. no one was able to outlast it long enough to get real research in.)

with the beginning of the fourth month, her health was going to start degenerating rapidly, especially if she stopped taking her medicine and quit the treatments.

and she wouldn't do that, because she'd promised to keep fighting, for as long as possible. she hadn't promised that she wouldn't stop, like Becky had asked, but, to herself, she'd promised to go for as long as she could.

so two sessions was needed and two sessions was what she'd get through.

despite the pain, she resolved to persevere.

she resolved to try, at least, and she knew that was all she could do.

all she could do was try to fight, try to ignore that voice that kept telling her she was only resisting the inevitable.

all she could do was listen, instead, to Becky's voice, whispering to her as they waited.

"you're doing so well, Char. i'm so proud of you. just a little bit longer."

she focused on the way Becky was holding her hand. the way Becky was brushing back the sweat-matted strands of hair from her forehead and looking at her like she was worthy of awe and adoration.

and it dulled the hurt a little. but not enough.

“this,” Charlotte swallowed. “fucking sucks.”

“i know," Becky replied, with a weak nod. "i’m sorry. if we’d known how bad it’d really be, i would’ve gotten your dad or someone else here somehow." she smiled, but it was watery and wavering. "but you’re doing great, love. i promise.”

Charlotte didn't wholly believe that herself. she thought she was actually a complete mess. unhinged at the seams and uncomfortable all over.

but if Becky promised, then it had to be true.

Charlotte's eyes closed, and another warm tear leaked onto her skin.

“‘m ready to go home.”

“i know, beautiful." Becky swiped her thumb over Charlotte's knuckles. "soon. we’ll go home soon.”

a half-hiccup.

“and we can eat takeout?”

“yeah. from whatever place you want.”

Charlotte winced with her next movement, despite how slow of a shift in weight it was.

“promise?”

“i promise.”

“okay.”

if Becky promised, then it had to be true.

_\---_

the following twelve hours, after the second session, had to be spent in the hospital, under close observation, just to ensure that no adverse effects sprouted up as a result.

after that, she was allowed to go home. and home in this instance was Becky's house, because they had been lucky enough to have Smackdown in L.A.

and Charlotte was lucky enough to have a best friend that agreed to take care of her, even when she'd insisted that it wasn't necessary.

"i'm only going to say this once, Charlotte Flair, so listen carefully." Becky had leveled her with a look, after said insistence. "you are going to let me take care of you, and you're not going to feel guilty about it. understand?"

Charlotte hadn't felt like she could do anything but nod, with the firmness of Becky's features presented to her, but she'd managed to resist and say, "i just—i don't want to intrude on y'all's space. and—and, also, didn’t you tell me last month that you had planned a trip to his family’s this week?"

Becky's jaw hardened and relaxed so quickly that Charlotte lost it within the blink of her eyes.

"he's going," she said. "i'm not."

"Becks," Charlotte had intoned. "you should go. don't not go because of me. i mean, it's important, right?"

Becky lifted her eyes up to the ceiling, in exasperation. (they had been having the conversation for a hot minute, and sometimes Charlotte was too stubborn for her own good.)

"not as important as you and your health, okay, Charlotte? you're staying at my place, and i'm staying with you. end of discussion."

and Charlotte had thought about arguing on. she'd thought about pushing Becky to go with him to his family's.

but then she'd decided to give in, to let herself be a little selfish and spend time with Becky on her own.

after all, his family would be there later. they weren't going anywhere. they were staying.

so, she'd finally nodded, like she'd had the urge to before.

and that was that.

Becky somehow got WWE to agree to give her time off, and, so, she was taking up the role of Charlotte's caregiver until she didn't have to anymore.

she was with Charlotte every second that she could be.

when Charlotte came back from the treatment, she was there. when Charlotte was hurting, she was there. when Charlotte fell asleep, she was there, and Charlotte had to assume that she didn't leave, because when she woke back up, there Becky was still, sitting in that same uncomfortable chair she'd pulled up at hour one.

it was hour nine at that point. Charlotte had slept without dreams or further struggle thanks to the help of the pain medication, but it was starting to wear off then, which is why she'd woken again.

"hey," is what Becky greeted her with, gently, as her face contorted and her eyelids started to crack apart. their gazes met. "hi. are you hurting?"

Charlotte's throat bobbed. her swallow was dry and felt horrible. she tried to turn her head a little, but she realized she had an oxygen line around her nose, so she stopped. 

"little," she mumbled eventually. "not lot."

Becky nodded. her fingers were warm over Charlotte's own. 

"yeah. it's about time for you to get another dosage, i think. maybe in an hour. they had said they were going to have to come in and keep you awake for an hour or so, before letting you go home, because they have to see how your body is responding while you're conscious."

Charlotte hummed, in the back of her throat, in acknowledgement. words felt too difficult to form, but Becky didn't seem to mind. 

she just talked to pass the time. she told stories that Charlotte had already heard or been there for but didn't mind reliving. she kept her hold on Charlotte's hand, even when a nurse came in to make sure she was awake. 

at hour ten, though, Becky got a phone call, and she said she needed to take it outside of the room. so, Charlotte was left on her own for a few minutes. 

and it wasn't that she couldn't handle being alone. it was just that she _hated_ hospitals—she always had—and having someone else there with her allowed her to focus on things other than how she was in a place that she loathed. 

so, sitting alone, with the smells and the sounds and the sight of just her room around her, was a little too much.

it made her anxiety hum lowly under the surface, and she didn't want it to build. she focused on her phone, on the various messages from friends and family, and it helped.

but when Becky came back was when Charlotte finally felt relief. 

at least, until she saw the hesitant look on Becky's face, that is. and then that relief drained some, on instinct.

because Becky was rarely ever hesitant, and especially not around her. not unless it had to do with a specific someone that Charlotte certainly did _not_ want to talk about in that moment. 

she barely kept herself from sighing. she wasn't surprised that it was him that had called. he _always_ managed to call while she was with Becky, and it was irritating, honestly. 

but Charlotte bit it all back, because she knew she was just being bitter. 

she was calm when she tilted her head and muttered a careful, "what?"

but Becky still bit down on her lower lip uncertainly. she shifted some of her weight between her feet. 

"so, uh, apparently he’s downstairs." Charlotte froze in confusion. that was even worse than what she had been expecting. "and he wants to come up to your room." she then blinked a few times. "i—i don’t know why. i know you two aren't close or anything, and i didn’t tell him to come. i can obviously tell him to leave too, but i said i'd ask you first.”

Charlotte licked her lips slowly. she was trying to find where the dots connected.

"he wants to... talk to me or something?"

"i—i guess?" Becky lifted her hands up to show she was just as lost. "if you don't feel up for it, Char, that's alright. i can tell him to go."

Charlotte thought about it for a second, as she took stock of her condition. 

she felt that ache in her chest trying to come back. that tiredness in her eyes trying to squeeze them shut again.

her energy levels were low, and that meant her tolerance and patience were too. so, truthfully, having a conversation with him was not a good idea. nothing good could come from it.

so, "yeah, i'm really not feeling up for talking to anyone right now," is what she said, because she really was tired of talking to people, and she definitely didn't want to ever talk to him, especially if it was unprompted and without allotted time for preparation first. 

and Becky nodded, like that was what she was expecting, and maybe even hoping, Charlotte would say.

"yeah, that's what i thought." she still looked like she was trying to figure something out, and she even looked a little guilty. "i'm sorry."

"s’fine, Becks," Charlotte reassured. "just, uh, tell him another time, i guess."

"okay." 

Becky nodded and went back out into the hallway to call him, and Charlotte was left, again, to her thoughts. 

she was left wondering what he could possibly want to speak with her about, and she knew, no matter what it was, no matter when it happened, that it couldn't be anything pleasant.

\---

when the second dose of pain medication was given to her, Charlotte discovered that it was very, _very_ strong. 

she hadn't truly been able to feel its effects, the first time around, because she'd been asleep, but as it kicked in again, right before they were set to leave, she definitely felt them. 

and she was grateful for the blocking of the ache that had before been so unbearable, of course. but the _absolute_  demolition of her usual barriers and walls of restraint? not so much.

because, in Becky's words, she was downright loopy, under the influence of powerful drugs. her normal composure was practically gone. she was like one of those videos of people spewing nonsense after their wisdom teeth were taken out, and she'd always laughed before, but, suddenly, the tables were turned, and she was compromised.

she lacked coordination and eloquence, and her innate sense of stubbornness seemed to be multiplied.

she was very much a hassle, but Becky was persistently patient, with everything that came along.

with every stumble over a word, every fumble in a movement, every hardheaded rebuttal, she was patient.

and she was pretty much an angel.

Charlotte made sure to tell her that too. 

and when she'd gotten a laugh in return, a brighter smile than she'd seen in a while, it made her feel warm all over.

it made her content enough to not complain over being coddled and not allowed to do anything much for herself. (she really didn't have the control necessary for autonomous, _responsible_ actions, anyway, but she wouldn't admit that.)

and the contentment didn't last long.

"Charlie—no, can you please just let me buckle you in."

"i can buckle a seatbelt," Charlotte mumbled, still trying to fight Becky's pulling at her hands. "'m capable."

"yes, you are," Becky conceded. " _usually_. but not right now. so, let me just—."

"i _got_ _it_."

Becky let out a sigh. she drew back and crossed her arms, after a gesture of 'go ahead,' and she watched as Charlotte continued to struggle with slotting the buckle into the right place. 

Charlotte's tongue poked out at the corner of her mouth. her eyebrows creased in concentration. 

she squinted and tilted her head, but eventually she realized she wasn't getting the job done. so, she huffed and let the belt go back into its automatic position. she looked up and Becky raised an eyebrow.

"fine."

Becky shook her head then, mostly in amusement, a little in exasperation that was fond. she reached out and easily pulled the belt back across Charlotte's chest, and as she leaned in more to secure the buckle, Charlotte just watched her. 

she blurted, "you're beautiful," before she could even register that the words were on her tongue. 

Becky chuckled.

"thanks, Charlie," she said. "i appreciate that." their eyes met briefly. "you are too."

Charlotte gave a small, closemouthed smile. 

"welcome."

Becky laughed again, probably at how pleased Charlotte appeared, and then she straightened back up and closed the passenger door. 

when she was in the driver's seat, she put the key in the ignition and turned a little to look over at where Charlotte was then gazing out of the window at people passing by. it was silent for a few seconds.

"ready to go home?"

Charlotte rolled her head over on the headrest. she blinked and smiled slow. 

"born ready."

Becky smiled then too.

"alright, daredevil, let's go."

and so they did.

\---

Becky had the guest room all set up for Charlotte when they got there. all it needed was her presence to make it complete.

the bed was practically calling to her. it was familiar and comfortable, Charlotte knew, because she'd slept in it hundreds of times before.

and, truthfully, it wasn't really even the 'guest room' any longer. it was just Charlotte's room. 

she had stayed in it less frequently, almost not at all, after Becky had gotten together with him. but it was still her room, a metaphor for her place still in Becky's life, and Becky made sure to remind her of that, even as they were entering the house.

"now i know you know where everything is, and i've got your room ready, but there are new rules until you're not loopy on prescription drugs, okay?"

Charlotte scrunched up her face, as they crossed the threshold of the front door.

"lame."

"first rule," Becky said pointedly. "no going up and down the stairs without help."

Charlotte paused right at the bottom step. she pivoted a little on her heel with an expression that could only be interpreted as ' _really_?'

Becky nodded. 

"i said what i said. i will not have you falling down the stairs and hurting yourself."

"what if i have to use the bathroom?"

"there's a bathroom in your room, Charlotte. you know that."

Becky left the bags she had been holding on the floor, and she walked over to where Charlotte was very obviously getting impatient with the restriction on her lone traveling. they started to climb with Becky's arm around her waist and Charlotte's hand on the rail. 

admittedly, it was a little wobbly. again, Charlotte wouldn't actually admit that out loud. 

"what if i get hungry?"

"literally just text me, Charlotte. i'll bring you food."

"so you say. for all I know you're gonna let me starve."

"and what, pray tell, would i get out of that?"

Charlotte paused in her movements. they were in her room then, and she was sitting on her bed. Becky was helping her get her shoes off. 

"dunno," she said after a moment. "but still."

Becky shook her head. 

"okay, weirdo. well, second rule: no lying to me if you're in pain." Becky connected their gazes. "i don't care if it's a tiny headache or if it's worse, tell me, okay?"

Charlotte nodded easily to that one, though it probably wouldn't be so easy later on. 

"mkay."

"you promise?"

"promise."

"with your pinky?"

Charlotte lifted her hand up—right in front of Becky's face, as she was still kneeling from before. she extended her pinky out, and she waited until Becky had put her shoe to the side and linked her own little finger around it before uttering, "finger and toe."

Becky's resulting smile was soft, and Charlotte's insides were too. 

the medicine was making her more susceptible to her feelings, but it was also numbing her to the typically terrible sensations of pining that came along with them, so all she was aware of was that warmth that Becky brought, and it was nice.

it was the calmest she'd felt in months, and it lingered within her as Becky tucked her into bed and told her to get some rest. 

"i'll be downstairs, alright? i've got some calls to make, but just text if you need me, and i'll hear it."

"okay."

Becky had turned to leave, but Charlotte called out a, "hey, wait," that made her stop. 

she looked over her shoulder.

"yeah?"

and Charlotte was so caught up in the way the shadows played off of the contours of Becky's features that she completely forgot the question that had seemed so burning just a second before. it flitted out of existence, to give way to the returning acknowledgement of just how beautiful Becky was.

she grinned.

"never mind. forgot my question."

Becky smiled easily.

"alright, well, let me know if you remember, yeah?"

"i will."

Charlotte had watched Becky go with that warmth still present, that affection still looming.

it didn't take long for it to solidify. it never did. 

when she started coughing, it wasn't as bad as she was used to. 

it felt less fierce. so she assumed that the treatment did work a little. 

but as she looked down at what was in her hand, she realized that it wasn't a single petal. it was a whole flower. not large but still fully bloomed.

it lacked any seeds, but it was still shaped kind of like a phonograph, with a thin base and then a widening and flattening out of the petals themselves. 

hot pink was the center, and it spread out like a star amongst the remaining area of dark purple. 

"Morning Glory," she read off of her phone, after she'd wrapped it in a tissue and placed it in the paper bag Becky had left for her in case of that very situation. " _affection_." she scrolled down further. _"mortality._ "

given that her state of mind was less than lucid, she didn't feel that same sense of dread that tended to follow every new type of flower. instead, she said, "fuck off," and locked her phone so the words could no longer glare at her cruelly.

but, still, it stayed with her. 

she rolled over and fell asleep. she _felt_ unbothered.

but she wasn't. 

it followed her into her dreams.

it multiplied. 

she was walking down a hallway, and the flowers were posted every few feet, in various colors. they started to sprout from the walls, from cracks in the ceiling and cracks in the ground. 

they were covering the lights and the path she was walking. 

she started to run, but it was hard. her limbs were too slow, and she couldn't get them to cooperate. 

with each step, the door was getting closer. she could see the outline of luminescence around it, and she thought if she could make it, she'd get outside, to fresh air. 

she thought she'd be free. 

but she was wrong.

the sun was the first thing she saw, and she was briefly blinded by it.

she was panting, her chest was heaving, there was a searing pain right over her heart.

she blinked rapidly, and things started to come into focus. 

she saw that she was at the end of an aisle, the same width of the hall. the flowers were now strewn about on the ground leading up to an arch, wrapped in white and gold fabric.

people were standing from their assembled seats, looking her way, and she knew exactly where she was. 

the music started to play, and right at her side stopped Becky, with her father on her left.

Charlotte's body nearly shuddered.

when Becky looked over at her, she smiled, gentle and at ease. she was the one that held all of Charlotte's breath.

"walk me, would you?"

Charlotte blinked hard.

"what?"

she looked down to where Becky was holding her right hand out just a little. she stared without comprehension for a second, and then she glanced back up to Becky's eyes. 

"Charlotte," Becky said, with a pronunciation for each syllable. "will you walk me, please?"

Charlotte still lagged in comprehension, like her brain was stuck in traffic and couldn't reach its destination.

"walk you..."

she trailed off. there was a beat of her heart and a beat of Becky's, and then it clicked.

Charlotte's eyes traveled down once more, to take in the flowing white of the dress on Becky's body. those same flowers sat in Becky's other hand. there were diamonds adorning her neck and ears, and even more white was settled in to contrast the orange of her hair.

Charlotte's head snapped in the direction of the end of the aisle, and she saw him, in his tux, with the officiant. her legs felt weak.

"oh."

she swallowed harshly, and she tried to refuse, to say no, but the words wouldn't come out. her petals blocked them, because they knew how Becky was looking at her, with such softness and hope, and they couldn't bear to say no.

so, Charlotte was stuck. she could do nothing but what Becky asked of her.

she could do nothing but walk Becky down the aisle, to him.

a weak sob shifted in the base of her throat as she nodded.

she straightened her posture and offered her elbow, for Becky to rest her hand in the crook of. 

when they began the walk, Charlotte was sure she was going to collapse. she was nearly trembling.

she saw Sasha and Bayley there, already at the front, in their bridesmaids' dresses, looking misty-eyed but happy, _approving,_ and she felt betrayed. 

but they wouldn't meet her gaze. they only looked through her. so, Charlotte was stuck with looking straight ahead.

when they made it to the end, when the journey was complete, Becky removed her hand from Charlotte's arm and turned to her father, who kissed her on the cheek and whispered that he was happy for her.

he took his seat off to the side, and then Becky turned to Charlotte, and she smiled that smile that had always made Charlotte feel like everything would be alright but wasn't up to the task any longer. she reached out and laid her fingers over Charlotte's cheek, and she brushed her thumb over Charlotte's lips.

Charlotte's throat bobbed.

"i'll miss you," Becky whispered, with a faint tremor to her chin. "forever."

the realization hit Charlotte in the center of her diaphragm. 

this was goodbye. 

she tried to reach up and grab ahold of Becky's fingers, to keep her there, keep her close, but they slipped away, out of her grasp. 

Becky started to turn away, like Charlotte had watched her do so many times before, and this time it felt final. 

" _I love you._ "

Becky didn't hear her in her ascent up the three steps to the altar. she had a footstep for each word, and so they were drowned out.

Charlotte tried to say them again, but her petals finally rose up.

she couldn't get around them anymore. they were all there was.

they were all she could feel. they were all she could see. 

they weren't the beginning, but they were the end.

and they said it was time.

\---

when Charlotte awoke, it was in a cold sweat.

she was silent but shaking. 

she had shot up in the bed, and the sheets were pooled around her waist. they were smooth and silken, but they felt confining, less like a hug and more like a restrictive hold. 

they were almost suffocating, so she tore them off of her and sat fully exposed to the air she was fighting to retrieve for her lungs.

everything felt wobbly and like it was teetering, and she was trying to focus in on her surroundings, but the room around her was completely dark. a good amount of time had passed since she'd fallen asleep, and she was completely disoriented, utterly discombobulated. 

she rubbed at her eyes, at the moisture that was clinging to them, and she inhaled a big breath. 

she swallowed.

she still didn't feel fully sober from the effects of the medicine, but it was no longer a pleasant numbing. it had morphed into an amplifier, and the pounding of her heart wouldn't slow.

with the lack of light, it was like every shape and shadow of the dark was trying to grab at her, pull her down, back to her terrors, and she just wanted to catch her breath.

when she got her phone in her hand, she saw that it was only a little after eight in the evening. 

that meant that Becky was fully awake and available to her.

she contemplated over what she should do. 

going back to sleep felt like the worst option there was and so did staying on her own. 

she tried, for a minute at most, to watch the television, to let the noise fill up all the hollow spaces, but it couldn't hold her focus. 

eventually, she just gave in. 

she stood, unsteadily, and made her way to the stairs.

she forgot, in her state, about the so-called rule that Becky had set in place. she had a one-track mind, and that was to get as far away from the place she'd had her dream—her nightmare—as possible.

she took each stair slowly. she was more stable than earlier but still not completely sturdy. the second twelve hours was almost up, but she still had a little to get through. 

when she was on the ground floor, she felt a little less burdened. the distance was helping.

she followed the noise of the tv in the living room and found Becky sitting on the couch. from her position at the entrance, she could see the woman frowning at a note, that seemed to have come with a paper package; one that was already opened and sitting on the coffee table.

Charlotte caught sight of the cover of a bridal magazine, amongst the wrapping, and her bones smarted. 

she got that dizzy feeling again and wondered if she'd made a mistake, if she'd just ran right into another nightmare. her idea felt poorly thought out, and she needed to retreat.

but just as she started to turn around, her foot settled against the wood of the floor in the wrong place, and it creaked enough to catch Becky's attention. 

and as soon as Becky laid eyes on her, she was dropping the note and moving to stand. Charlotte was caught.

“Charlotte, what’re you doing out of bed?" she reached out like she could do something to help even then. "you’re not supposed to be moving around for at least three more hours.”

Charlotte stuttered some. she looked for an excuse that wouldn't completely expose her.

“i got cold.”

her search did not assist her much.

Becky tilted her head. she was mildly confused but not rude when she said, “there was a blanket on your bed, love.”

Charlotte's eyes darted away. she moved her shoulders and arms in a way that stretched out some of her muscles' tension. 

“i—um." she got more hushed. "i didn't wanna be alone.”

and that was closer to the truth. it was the closest she could get, at least. 

and, honestly, she probably wouldn’t have said it if she hadn't been so shaken, or still under faint influence from her painkillers, but there was just something about being hurt, about trying to heal from that hurt, that seemed to always make one express their most core of desires.

like when a child gets injured and only wants their mother; it transfers to adulthood. sometimes the same want for parental comfort stays, and sometimes it shifts to someone else that had come along to fill that role as a shoulder to lean on.

and Becky? she was Charlotte’s shoulder. she had boulder shoulders that were somehow still soft, and they’d always been receptive to Charlotte’s cheek. her arms had always held her close and together when she'd needed it, and in that moment, she needed it more than anything. 

and Becky could sense it. she could tell. 

she gestured for Charlotte to come closer.

"well, c'mere, then."

and Charlotte did. 

when Becky sat back in her spot on the couch, at the end of it, Charlotte laid down and laid her head atop Becky's lap. she shut her eyes and turned her face into the soft fabric of the hoodie over Becky's abdomen. 

Becky's hands, the ones that Charlotte couldn't touch, couldn't hold onto in her dream, fell to the strands of her hair, and they stroked soothing lines there.

for a while, then, they existed in quiet.

Charlotte felt a calm finally start to come back to her. the fight or flight instinct that had made her feel like she needed to keep moving finally died down. she was content to stay still with Becky. 

"bad dream?"

Charlotte nodded lightly at the question. 

"do you wanna talk about it?" 

she shook her head next, and Becky didn't push.

another moment or two passed.

"i thought i told you no going up and down the stairs without help."

it was a light comment, one meant to take Charlotte's thoughts off of what it was drowning in. it worked a little. 

"had help," Charlotte insisted. "the railing."

Becky scoffed quietly. 

"okay, smart ass."

Charlotte felt a smile tug at her lips. 

Becky's fingers fell to rest at the nape of Charlotte's neck. 

"you can go back to sleep now, Charlie. i've got you if the bad dreams come back, alright?"

Charlotte nodded. the fading of her adrenaline had her feeling exhausted again.

her eyelids drooped drastically, and Becky continued to trail touches across her scalp.

"mkay."

she pressed her nose closer to Becky's stomach. she was about to fall asleep once more when the question she couldn't remember from earlier sprung forward in her mind, abrupt and alive, pressing and not to be pushed aside again. a resurgence caused by the images that wouldn't completely leave Charlotte's mind.

"wait.” she rolled her head back some, blinked and lifted her gaze up. “i r'membered my question. from earlier."

"oh, yeah?" Becky raised an eyebrow, still gazing down at Charlotte tenderly. "if i answer it will you go to sleep?"

"yeah."

"okay, love, ask away."

Charlotte had none of her habitual hesitation; it felt far too important for that. 

"are you happy?"

and, as a result, the fingers in her hair froze for a few seconds, before continuing in their pace and rhythm.

Becky's face flickered in and out with a feeling that Charlotte was far too compromised to decipher.

all she could do was watch Becky’s throat move with a difficult swallow and wait patiently.

eventually she was given the answer of, "yeah, Charlie," faintly and just below the line of strained. "i'm happy." a smile pulled up a corner of Becky's mouth. "i've got you with me, after all, right?"

Charlotte hummed. she searched Becky's features for any signs of deception, but her usual adeptness at it was hindered, and she couldn't tell. so she decided to take the words and the smile at face value.

"right," she murmured, forgetting that the intent of the original inquiry had been about something else, about Becky's happiness with him. "you've got me. and i've got you.” she managed a smile, if only for the familiarity of the exchange. “me and you. you and me."

Becky's next chuckle was weakly breathless. she withdrew one of her hands from Charlotte's hair to use it to brush a fleeting touch over Charlotte's cheekbone.

"just two peas, yeah?"

"yeah," Charlotte nodded, as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. her eyelids tried to fall over themselves again, just as she admitted, "i've never really liked peas, you know."

Becky cocked her head to the side. 

"no?"

"no," Charlotte then shook her head, as best as she could. "but i like you. so i just go with it."

the fondness of Becky's expression deepened.

"well, aren't you charming?"

"'course i am."

that fondness stayed present even as Becky rolled her eyes.

"okay, don't get a big head and crush my lap," she said. "will you go to sleep now, please? you need the rest."

Charlotte let out a sigh, heavy and dramatic, though she was already settling in.

"if you insist."

the sound of Becky's last chuckle followed her into her dreams.

it wrapped around her and kept her warm. it was the thing that kept the nightmares from returning.

\---

_'cause, baby, when i sleep, i dream of you._


	7. is this all we get, one short life? (tell me we got time)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "After You" by Meghan Trainor, and I highly recommend listening while you read. More than usual.

_is this all we get, one short life?_

_tell me we got time._

\---

day one of Charlotte staying with Becky entailed an abrupt recalibration of her bearings back to their original positions.

the science behind the treatment was tricky and when it was explained to Charlotte, she only understood parts of it. but when they’d said that she’d be in pain for the entirety of the twenty four hours following, they had proved to be right. and, true to their word again, almost as soon as the twenty four hours was up, the pain subsided.

she woke up in the morning, in her own bed, and she was almost baffled at the lack of hurt in her bones. it seemed to defy everything she’d ever learned in biology and chemistry and physics. it seemed to defy logic. 

but so did the disease itself, really.

so, she didn’t question it for long.

she sat up with a yawn. she stretched her limbs out, rolled her shoulders, ran her fingers through her hair.

when she stood, she was sturdy. she wasn't going anywhere.

it was a nice feeling, after struggling just to walk down the steps the day before.

and after using the restroom and brushing her teeth, washing her face and actually brushing her hair, she headed down those same steps towards the kitchen.

and, true to her intuition, Becky was there, at the stove; she wasn't much of a chef, but she could make pancakes, and pancakes were what appeared to be on the menu, if the ingredients that were laid out were anything to go by.

Charlotte stopped and stood in her spot for a second after entering. Becky's back was to her, and she was humming lightly along to the radio playing on her phone. she was dancing, but it was just barely, really nothing more than some movement in her shoulders.

Charlotte smiled quietly, a private and pleased expression of peace. 

Becky always was more of a morning person than her, and it was a familiar sight, a hint of home and solid ground in all that seemed to be shifting around her. it was nice to know that mundane things remained even as other things warped out of place.

so, it brought Charlotte some of that ever-elusive comfort she'd been craving, contentment for things to stay as they were.

but then her stomach growled lowly and told her to get a move on, so she started to make her way forward again.

"smells good," she mumbled, before smirking at the way Becky jumped at the sound of her voice. "blueberry?"

"almost nonexistent if you'd have given the cook a  _heart_   _attack_ ," Becky retorted instantly, high-pitched but still raspy with sleep. she released a stabilizing breath through her mouth, with puffed out cheeks, and Charlotte's smirk widened into a grin of amusement. "but, yes, blueberry."

Charlotte hummed.

"my favorite."

"yes, i know." Charlotte took a seat at the island. "how did you sleep?"

"well enough to not notice when you transferred me to my bed, apparently."

"i'll admit i was surprised i pulled it off," Becky said. "you're usually such a light sleeper that i fear turning over in the bed next to yours will wake you up."

"well, the hotel beds are notoriously springy. that's not on me."

"no, perhaps not."

Becky flipped the pancake she was working on over, and Charlotte listened to the way it sizzled, as she briefly chewed on the inside of her bottom lip.

"i'm more surprised you were able to carry my dead weight all the way up the stairs, honestly," she said after a beat or two, feeling, maybe, just a little guilty. "you know you could've just left me on the couch."

"and what? miss the chance to demonstrate my strength? i think not." Becky set her spatula down so that she could flex her left arm, in her own direction and then in the other, fully exposed thanks to the tank top she was sporting. "there's nothing these guns can't handle, baby."

Charlotte rolled her eyes with a scoff, effectively appeased.

"alright, Johnny Bravo. you got it. i'm very impressed."

"pfft, i know." Charlotte shook her head with another smile. "no, but, seriously, how did you sleep? you feeling alright?"

"yeah," Charlotte nodded then, her voice more softly serious. "feeling a lot better. thank you for taking care of me yesterday. i know i was a handful."

"try armful," Becky quipped, with a glance over her shoulder to show she was joking. "but you don't need to thank me. you would've done the same for me. hell, you  _have_ done the same for me."

"mm, you certainly  _can_ be a lot when you drink too much."

"which is  _rare_ , because i know how to hold my liquor, thank you very much."

"i didn't say you couldn't," Charlotte laughed. "don't get worked up. you'll forget to turn your pancakes over and burn them."

"i can multitask, actually."

"oh?" Charlotte lifted her eyebrows, though Becky wasn't looking at her. "new skill to list on the resume?"

"please," came the scoff. "i've been keeping up with you and maintaining my career all at once for years, it's been there from the start."

"keeping up with me? are you calling me high maintenance?"

"no, of course not," Becky shot her an exaggeratedly wide-eyed look. "i'm just saying that you're a great, flying skyscraper that likes to throw yourself into the air at any chance you can, and you think spins and flips are bonus points. it tends to wear on the heart that's looking out for you, you know."

Charlotte furrowed her eyebrows, and she brought her hand up to hold her chin. she paused for a few seconds, supposedly in contemplation.

"i thought i was a boulder."

"well, yeah, you're that too."

"that doesn't quite make sense."

"sure it does."

Charlotte shook her head.

"alright, Becks. if you say so."

"i do." Becky turned towards her then, with the plate she'd placed all the pancakes on in hand. "and i also say you better appreciate these pancakes because i burnt myself earlier while you were sleeping. managed not to curse loud enough to wake you up."

"what?" Charlotte asked, glancing down to Becky's hands and arms, leaning forward a little. "where?"

Becky lifted her right hand, from under the plate, to show the white bandage wrapped around her palm.

"got distracted and didn't look where i was placing my hand."

"and you say keeping up with  _me_ is stressful."

"it  _is_."

Charlotte lifted her eyes up, before letting out a sigh.

"well, i do appreciate the pancakes, and i'm sorry you had to get wounded in the process. do you want a kiss for the pain?"

"well, as long as it has magical healing properties, then i don't see why not."

Charlotte shook her head once more, with a small smile, as she reached for Becky's hand.

"you're ridiculous," she said, just before placing a light peck over the wrapping of the injury.

"of course." Becky took her hand back and started to divide their breakfast. "but thank you, it's feeling  _batter_ already."

"oh my god."

"what?" Becky quirked an eyebrow up. "you didn't like the joke? that's not  _berry_ nice."

"please stop."

"Charlie, you're gonna make me feel  _blue._ "

"i will go eat by myself. i promise."

Charlotte stood halfway out of her seat, with her plate in her grasp, but then Becky laughed, fully and with her teeth glinting in the morning light, and she lost the ability to keep up the facade.

she laughed too and settled in, as Becky started pouring orange juice and telling a story about something Naomi did some time before.

\---

the rest of day one and all of day two were spent doing nothing of much importance.

Charlotte had her bearings back, and they stayed where they were supposed to, but Becky remained at her side anyway. partly because she wanted to, and partly because she was fearful of those bearings slipping away again.

no amount of statements along the lines of, “i’m fine, you know. you can run errands or something if you want,” would deter her, and Charlotte knew that. so she didn’t say anything like it.

they simply spent the type of time together that was still, calm and unhurried, and it was a nice change of pace from the constantly moving type of time they were used to.

but, truthfully, it wasn't a real change. they acted together as they always had. (most of the time, at least.)

they talked like normal. they discussed some show or movie or news article. they laughed about things they remembered or things they were making memories for, and it felt like everything was fine.

they sat on the couch, and Charlotte watched Becky read on her phone. when Becky caught her staring, she made a funny face so that Charlotte would laugh, and then she started to read aloud until Charlotte fell asleep.

Charlotte put her earbuds in and listened to music, and Becky massaged her feet. Charlotte mumbled and grumbled about how much she hated feet, but she returned the favor anyway, as she always did.

they attempted to bake a cake, but it led to a flour fight of the most common cliche; they were laughing too hard to notice.

they watched netflix and ate horrible food for once, and Becky held true to her promise and allowed Charlotte to choose where they ordered the takeout from.

they facetimed Bayley and Sasha and made plans for when the other two were going to be coming back to LA later on in the week.

they did a lot of simple things, and everything felt settled.

nothing truly felt out of the ordinary during the first two days.

the first two days were slow and lazy, and most of the time, they were normal.

but there was a reason they were spending the still sort of time together, and not the moving kind they were used to, and there were other moments that reminded them of that. there were other moments, moments after Charlotte started coughing, that made it evident that there was a new normal they had to adhere to.

those times were quieter, less content, less comfortable.

Charlotte filled the bags that Becky provided her with steadily, with various flowers, of all colors but relatively one meaning:  _perilously in love_.

and it sobered them both up, to see them and their symbolism. it wiped the smile clean off of Becky’s lips, and it allowed for a thinness to settle in its place. it allowed that thinness to press them together instead, like she was holding back words and emotions and the urge to be sick herself.

because in those times, after Charlotte’s discomfort and disruption had been soothed, she tended to be breathing heavier, her throat was sore, she got weaker. she had to sit or lie down, because the fits were starting to take a lot of her energy out of her.

the laughter was gone, and so was the talking. they both got sadder, and they remembered what it was they were living in.

a silence settled over them, and Becky was usually the one to end up breaking it, eventually, because Charlotte couldn’t bear to do it. with how she had started to notice how upset Becky was each time, she always wanted to give the woman the right amount of time to recover. she didn’t want to do anything to make it worse.

so she just sat, and she waited, until Becky came back and asked what she wanted for lunch or dinner, what she felt like watching on tv.

she sat, and she waited, until Becky came back. (which definitely wasn't a new sensation, wasn't a new situation or condition for her.)

and sometimes Becky wouldn’t even break the silence with words, but she’d close the distance between them anyway.

she would just be present, at Charlotte’s side, and she wouldn’t leave unless she had to.

even at night she was there, but that was mostly because Charlotte had lost the strength to refrain from asking her to stay after the first night.

so, on the second night, as Becky checked in at around one in the morning, after she'd heard Charlotte coughing and came in to give her water, to rub patterns into her back and whisper reassuring words to her, Charlotte uttered a hoarse, "will you stay?"

and Becky hadn't hesitated. she'd nodded and said, "of course," in the next second, and she might have even looked a little relieved, to know that she was closer if Charlotte needed her again.

but when Charlotte awoke, on the morning of day three, Becky was gone, and she couldn’t clearly discern whether or not it had been a dream. she couldn’t tell if the sense of loss she felt in her arms was the kind she was used to or the result of a more recent deprivation of contact.

so, she laid there for longer than usual, trying to figure it out. because she’d dreamt of Becky’s voice, of a touch on her cheek and a shaky pressing of lips to her head. she’d dreamt that she’d heard those eight letters, three words and three syllables, in the right order.

but she couldn’t tell if it had been real. she couldn’t convince herself enough that it was.

so she didn’t mention it. and Becky didn’t either.

at around lunch time, though, Becky came back to her, with a notebook in her hand and a furrow to her eyebrows.

Charlotte was still sitting in her bed, watching tv, but, of course, as soon as Becky was present, she watched her instead.

eventually, she had to ask, “what’re you doing?” as Becky glanced up at her and then down at the page for what had to have been the fifth time in as many minutes. “you’re thinking real hard over there. if you’re not careful you’ll pull something.”

Becky snorted weakly. 

“oh, ha ha, you’re so  _funny_ , Charlie." she squinted with a minute shake of her head and a scrunching of her nose. "do you see me in stitches over here?”

Charlotte grinned in amusement, and, though she ducked her head and tried to hide it some, Becky saw it. she made a noise of realization.

“i  _knew_ i was forgetting one _.”_

she started writing again, quickly, like she didn’t want her train of thought to slip off its tracks once more. Charlotte was back to looking confused.

“ok, but, seriously, what’re you up to?”

“gimme a second.”

Charlotte lifted her eyes up, as she clasped her fingers over her stomach.

"okay, here."

Becky tore the page from her notebook without further hesitation and still without any explanation. she simply held it out for Charlotte to grab ahold of and read on her own.

so that’s what Charlotte did. she blinked down at what appeared to be a list, and her eyebrows knitted themselves together.

_1\. the fanged one. when you don't care who's looking_

_2\. the soft one, when you're telling me it'll be alright and i'm losing my head for no reason_

_3\. the one when you're laughing with me_

there was an arrow under number three, pointing down to the bottom of the list, and, seemingly, to Becky's latest addition.

_4\. the one where you're laughing at me but trying to hide it and be nice about it_

Charlotte looked up then, at Becky, who was watching her read with a closemouthed and pleased grin on her face.

"is this a list of...?"

"your smiles? yes. ranked, as promised. mostly by how happy you are when you make them, obviously, because how else would they be ranked? also, the order changed up a little, but that happens, i suppose. i was a _tad_ drunk when you asked, if you remember."

"you..." Charlotte trailed off. she glanced back down to the paper in her hands and then up at Becky, in a motion similar to the one the other woman had performed earlier. she flipped it over on the back and saw more writing. "you really wrote  _all_ of these out?"

"well, yeah, i did still promise to make you the list one day, didn't i?"

and that _was_ right. she did promise that. and Charlotte had learned that if Becky promised, then it had to be true.

she still stuttered silently to herself, though, as she thought about that night, where Becky had been drunk and adorable but no less charming and genuine.

she thought about how she had fallen even further, and how she was doing the same in that moment, once again, without fail.

she was always falling, and there was no one there to  _truly_ catch her.

"you also thought the hairbrush on my dresser was a porcupine, Becks," she eventually managed to say. "you were absolutely trashed. i'm just surprised you remember any of that night."

"i remember everything that you're part of."

the statement was casual. Becky was halfway distracted then, by the show Charlotte had on. she didn't really think anything of it. it was absentminded.

but Charlotte froze.

because those were the types of comments—the making of the list was the type of action—that had led her down the path of believing before. those were the types of comments and actions that had proved to be an illusion of something she’d been yearning for, not something that was reality.

so, instead of taking the words and holding them to that hurting cut deep within her, that was scabbed over but somehow still bleeding, that needed a bandage that they’d make up perfectly, she simply held them in her hands and smiled.

“well, look who’s getting sentimental in their old age.”

Becky let out a small scoff. she looked back over and then let her eyes do a half-roll.

"whatever, Flair. you're older than me."

"well, we've known i'm sentimental already."

"that's true. i'm surprised you're watching Chopped and not some dramatic lifetime movie."

"i can be versatile."

"alright, chameleon, scoot over some, because i wanna see who wins now that they're competing with hot cheetos and that ugly gray octopus."

"don't forget the sparkling cider."

"i could never."

Charlotte made room beside her, and Becky plopped down easily. she became invested within an instant, just like usual.

but Charlotte stayed caught in her thoughts, just like usual.

and she kept the list folded and clasped within her hands up until it was time for them to eat dinner, hours later. even then she put it in her shirt's pocket, right over her heart.

she kept it close. but she still didn't press it to that wound. she'd learned her lesson before.

\---

day four was a bad day. to put it simply.

Charlotte gained awareness of the world with a petal caught between her teeth, and it only proceeded to get worse from there.

from that point forward, she couldn’t go an hour without coughing. she was too weak to get out of her bed except for to use the restroom, and she didn’t feel like eating.

she felt exhausted and miserable and heavy. she felt worn and weighed down and just plain  _sick_.

what made it worse was the worry that was wrinkling the skin around Becky’s eyebrows and lips.

the ever-present waver to her voice, subtle and soft but still there; the shine to her eyes that made it seem like she would take all of Charlotte’s suffering at the flip of a switch, at any hint of an opportunity to be able to do so, was too much for Charlotte to look at.

it was far too real for Charlotte to handle, and she just wanted to sleep it all off, sleep it all away, ignore it and avoid it.

“i think we need to take you to the hospital, Charlotte.”

that’s why she shook her head at Becky’s words.

“no, i—.” a half-cough cut her off. she breathed in deep. “i don’t want to.” she swallowed. “i’ll be fine.”

“Charlotte…”

“there’s been days like this before,” Charlotte admitted then, so desperate in her attempt to stay in her place that she didn't even hesitate to reveal the information. “it’ll be okay by morning, i promise. and if it’s not then i’ll go, okay.”

she thought the expression that overtook Becky’s features then was worse than before. she kind of wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

because it was absolute devastation—that same sort of devastation that Charlotte saw on the first day Becky found out—like the mere concept of Charlotte suffering so fully and so alone was destroying Becky at her core.

there was a pause.

Becky didn’t say anything for a bit. she seemed to be weighing their options.

Charlotte tried to hold her breath, so that she wouldn't cough or shift or move in a way that would push Becky over the edge into forcing her to go.

it seemed to work.

eventually, Becky let out a sigh and said, “if you get any worse, we’re going to the hospital and you’re not allowed to fight me on it. understand?”

and Charlotte nodded, out of pure relief.

Becky’s eyes started to flit back and forth between her own. they traveled over Charlotte’s face like they were attempting to engrain every detail into their memory, like a picture was fading out of focus and they needed to do it as quickly as possible.

Charlotte was familiar with process. it was the way Bayley had looked when she’d found out, the way Sasha had looked, the way her father and her family had looked. and, again, it was too much. Charlotte was starting to become overwhelmed from bearing the weight of their gazes on her.

she let her eyelids slide shut.

“‘m tired.”

Becky released a slow exhale through her nose.

“i know, love.” a pause. Charlotte felt the presence of a hand hovering over her cheek, but it withdrew just before the quiet utterance of, “try to get some rest. i’ll be here if you need me.”

Charlotte cracked her eyes back open. she blinked slowly in the darkness of the room.

“where?” she asked, faintly.

Becky started to gesture at the chair sitting by the window in the room, but then she stopped herself. she tugged her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“wherever you want me,” she finally replied.

Charlotte’s chest rose and fell with a quivering quiet. she could feel the upheaval starting to calm. she knew she would probably be alright if she was left alone.

so, she whispered, “you don’t have to stay. if you don’t want. it’s getting better.”

because she had asked Becky to stay so consistently over the course of such a short time, and Becky deserved some moments to herself for a bit, while Charlotte slept.

Charlotte didn’t want Becky to revolve around her. she had already started feeling guilty over taking up so much of Becky’s schedule and attention, and she was adding worry and stress on top of that.

she was burdening Becky, she felt, and so she wanted to give Becky the opportunity to get some distance between them.

but Becky didn’t take it. of course she didn’t.

"what do you want?" she asked quietly, in return. "do you want me to go?"

 _god, no_ , Charlotte nearly blurted, on instinct, because of the weakening of her barriers.

she wanted Becky with her at all times, of course. she wanted Becky to stay and stay for good. she wanted Becky to not be gone in the morning, to not adhere to the boundaries of their friendship anymore.

she wanted Becky to stay and to love her back. she wanted all or nothing.

but she was used to not getting what she wanted at that point. and she supposed that even though she wanted all or nothing, Becky staying and loving her a little wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

so she said, "no. i don't want you to go."

and Becky responded with, "do you want me to lie with you?"

and what else could Charlotte have said?

"yes."

so, just like nights two and three before, Becky stayed, and she loved Charlotte a little. she loved Charlotte enough to wrap her arms around her and pull her close and promise that she was safe. she loved Charlotte enough to tighten her grip and show the fear she had of eventually having to let go.

"i've got you, Charlie," she whispered, with her cheek against the top of Charlotte's forehead. "i'm always proud of you, you know. my fighter."

Charlotte curled in close. she could feel her tension lessening under Becky’s touches against her back.

“you’re my favorite,” she mumbled.

just before she drifted off, she heard a hushed, "ditto."

\---

just as she had predicted—as she had _promised—_ day five was better in the sense of her health.

she didn't feel filled to the brim. she didn't feel close to bursting. she didn't feel like it was impossible to breathe.

her eyelids cracked and creaked apart at a little past the time for the sunbeams to have started seeping through the slats in the blinds, and, as a result, the room was cast in a cool, golden glow. it was too early for the warmth to have grown, but it was too late for the dark to have been able to linger; it was almost a limbo.

it was always one of Charlotte’s favorite times. 

it was always the calmest—perhaps the calm before the storm, but still a needed reprieve. it was an opportunity to be conscious without using much awareness for anything else, and it was merciful.

so waking up on the fifth day was peaceful, and Charlotte went to instinctively stretch out against the mattress, to lazily loosen her muscles from the disuse of sleep.

but then she realized she wasn’t alone. she was warm and resting with someone else.

and she froze.

she brought her gaze, still slightly blurred, down, and she was able to see enough of a bright orange to know whose hair was fanned out across the pillow beside her—like it could've been anyone else.

with more of her senses coming back into focus, she felt, then, that her left arm was particularly numb, trapped under Becky’s body but wrapped around her waist still.

her heart fluttered.

because she wasn’t just  _holding_ Becky, she was curled into her, practically wrapped around her. she was lying on her side and pressed against her like she had been attempting to shield the woman from anything that might’ve been thrown from within the darkness of the night.

somehow, their positions had shifted, and Charlotte had wound up being the one with a head on top of her chest.

it wasn't necessarily a surprise. it was their natural position. Becky was a cuddler, and Charlotte had always known that. she was used to being the one that was rested against.

the only thing that had managed to catch her off guard was the fact that she was able to wake up in that way at all. because for the entirety of the time that she'd been staying with Becky, the other woman was awake and moving before she was.

Charlotte always awoke alone, in her bed, with the coolness of the sheets at her side and no proof that any of what she remembered in the night—being held, being cherished, being kept calm—was real.

so, day five was bound to be a good day, if Becky was still there as the sun rose. or that was what the logical line of thought would've been. 

Charlotte thought that maybe it was a jinx, instead. she thought that maybe no days were supposed to be good days. 

because after she'd extracted herself from Becky's grasp, so she could stumble blearily to the bathroom, after she'd relieved herself and was making her way back to the warmth of the bed, her phone started vibrating frantically atop the nightstand.

and she'd had to reach for it on instinct, because it was loud against the tranquility of the room, and she didn't want Becky to be disturbed from her dreams.

she should've just silenced the call and set the device back down. but her mind wasn't functioning at its full capacity; it was still caught up in the thoughts of lying back down. it was on one track, and couldn't halt her actions quick enough.  

so, she pressed the accept button without looking. she mumbled a “hello?” without much thought.

a beat of silence followed the word, and then: “Charlotte?”

his voice made her feel wide awake. that fuzzy haze of contentment and tiredness lifted quickly, and reality rushed back in with a rapid rudeness.

she pulled the phone back from her ear and saw that it definitely did not belong to her. her gaze traveled down to the nightstand to see her phone, still plugged in on the charger and sitting right next to where Becky's had been.

she bit her tongue to stop herself from swearing. 

“uh,” she glanced back to Becky, still asleep, as she brought it closer again. “yeah.”

she nearly winced at the silence that stemmed from the other line. she contemplated just hanging up, but the implications of that might have been too harmful, so she resisted the urge. she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she waited for some form of response.

“where’s Becky?” eventually came the question. “can i talk to her please?”

Charlotte drummed the fingers of her free hand against her thigh. she hesitated. 

“she’s sleeping right now. i just heard the phone ringing.”

“well, can you wake her up?”

Charlotte glanced back again, and seeing the peace on Becky’s face, the relaxed and smoothed muscles there, made her reluctant.

“is it important? she hasn’t been sleeping very well lately.”

she didn't even have to see him to picture the surprise on his face. Charlotte usually just took her leave whenever he came around. she usually moved out of his path to Becky. 

he didn’t like that she wasn’t moving then, apparently. 

"yes,” he responded, curtly. “it is important, and it's time sensitive. so, can you please wake my fiancé up?"

Charlotte clenched her jaw. she was close to saying no, close to hanging up again, but that would probably bring his wrath upon Becky, and Becky didn’t deserve that.

so, she let out a short sigh, and she didn't keep the irritation out of her voice when she said, "i'll try.”

she put the mic on mute afterwards, though, so he couldn’t hear the gentleness that came to take its place as she walked over and shook Becky’s shoulder lightly.

“Becks,” she whispered. “hey.”

Becky’s eyelashes fluttered. Charlotte stopped shaking her shoulder and started running her hand up and down Becky's upper arm instead, to try to rouse her more. 

“Becky.”

“hm?”

“wake up, please.”

Becky’s head lifted off her pillow. she blinked at Charlotte's face as best as she could, though she was still very disheveled and very out of it.

“wha’s the matter?" she murmured. "are you hurting? do we need to go—.”

“no, no, calm down, sweetheart," Charlotte said quickly. "i’m alright. he’s, uh, he’s on the phone for you. i didn’t mean to answer. i thought it was mine. and i tried to tell him you were sleeping, but—.”

“s’fine, Charlie. s’long as you’re fine.”

Becky’s eyes were trying to close again, but she still reached for the phone, so Charlotte handed it to her, after taking it off mute.

"hello?"

Charlotte then turned away. 

she made herself useful by moving towards the dresser that held her clothes and looking through it for what she would wear after her shower. she didn't pay much mind to how long she was taking, and she didn't focus on what Becky was saying.

that's why she was startled when she heard her name, after a few minutes that felt like five seconds.

“Charlie, what're you doing?"

she glanced over her shoulder to see that Becky no longer had the phone to her ear or in her hand. she still had the covers pulled up all the way to her chin, and she was peering at Charlotte through drooping eyelids. 

"i'm about to get in the shower, Becks."

"no. come back. s’too early to be up for good.”

"you know you can still go back to sleep while i shower, right? if you're worried about me finding food or something, i know how to operate the stove—."

"'m not worried bout that. you should get to sleep in too. and, also, 'm cold now. you're like a five foot ten heater, and i sleep better next to you."

Charlotte blinked. for a split-second, a fleeting flutter in her stomach, she felt warmed by the words, by the revelation. but then she remembered that she couldn't let herself absorb them fully. she had to hold them carefully in her hands and treat them as if they were precious, but she couldn't press them to the wound.

it was the routine she'd performed on day three. it was the routine she'd performed every day since her world was recalibrated when she was introduced to him. 

she was used to it. she'd learned to juggle very well because of it.

but by that point, on that morning, her hands were getting awfully full, and she was unsure of just how many more words she could fit into them. she wondered if tattoos would free up some space, but then that might have been too close to absorbing them, might have been too close to letting them under her skin again.

she shook her head, subtly. she supposed it wouldn't matter soon, anyway. she could hold onto the words for a little bit longer, she thought.

so, with a quiet breath, and a light chuckle, she brought her focus back to the present tense. she turned back around and set her clothes in their proper places in the drawers once more.

"alright, Becks," she said finally. "if you wanna sleep in, we'll sleep in."

Becky hummed as Charlotte made her way back to her side of the bed. she had already been drifting off again.

"great."

Charlotte smiled gently as she lifted the covers and climbed back in, and that smile stretched further when Becky snuggled closer immediately, as soon as she was in reach. but, even though it was Charlotte who had been outside of the sanctuary of warmth, Becky's feet were freezing when they made contact with Charlotte's legs. and they made Charlotte pull away in surprise instinctively, with a sharp inhale.

" _geez_ , Becky, your toes feel like ice cubes."

she tried to distance herself just to save her skin from associative frost bite. 

"what're you talking about?" Becky continued to reach for her, firmly settled in her sleepy mindset and, thus, not caring about showing her usual restraint, only caring about seeking out warmth to steal. "'m straight fire from my head  _to_  my toes."

she punctuated her statement with another poking of her feet against Charlotte's ankles, but she'd gotten her arms around Charlotte's torso by then, so Charlotte couldn't withdraw like the first time. she had to suffer through the sensation with gritted teeth and a displeased groan in the back of her throat.

she softened, though, when Becky leaned into her further. her voice was tender to the touch when she said, "you're insufferable, is what you are."

Becky's words of, "but you keep me around," came out muffled against her shirt. 

"well, you know that saying about the devil you know..."

Becky removed her head from Charlotte's shoulder for the sole purpose of glaring up at her, but it was a weak, half-hearted, too heavily-lidded from her tiredness type of stare. 

it was more of a pout, really. and it was absolutely endearing. 

Charlotte felt her face shift with fondness.

"take that back."

"or  _what_ , straight fire?" Charlotte teased. 

"i'll shove you off the bed."

"then you'd just be cold again."

"i'd have sweet,  _sweet_  victory to keep me warm, actually."

Charlotte laughed some. she shook her head again, and some of her hair fell across her forehead.

"you are  _such_  a dork, i hope you know _._ "

Becky's pout came back with full force.

"you're being rude today. i changed my mind. go shower."

Becky made a show of removing herself from their embrace and rolling over onto her other side. Charlotte just rolled her eyes. 

"stop being dramatic," she said. "that's my job."

"you have the day off."

Charlotte watched Becky for a few seconds, and when she saw her shiver faintly she asked, "are you cold  _already_?" 

" _no,_ " came the emphatic response. 

Charlotte raised an eyebrow for no one but herself.

"are you lying?"

"of course not."

Charlotte's eyes narrowed then, as she saw Becky burrow in under the covers even more. there was a minor lull in movement. Charlotte heard a car go past in the street. birds were starting to chirp.

"you're ridiculous."

she closed the distance between them before Becky could reply. she closed the distance without truly contemplating it—without a first, second, or tenth thought to make her hesitate.

she wrapped her arms around Becky's waist and pulled her flush against her. she wrapped around her even more than she had managed to during the night, and this time it was a completely conscious decision. 

this time her nose was resting at the nape of Becky's neck, in the crook of it, and her hands were resting against Becky's stomach. they were fitted together. they were puzzle pieces made to work for just that moment in time.

Charlotte's throat felt scratchy, but she kept it subdued. 

it didn't take her long to think about how them lying together as they were was reminiscent of the night Becky found out. it didn't take her long to think about how the positions were reversed and how they were both fully awake to feel it. 

so, consequently, it didn't take her long to stiffen slightly, to start to doubt herself. 

because this position was far more intimate than the others they'd been in before, and, yeah, Becky had initiated it first, on that one night, but that was when she was still overwhelmed from the shock and the scariness of finding out Charlotte was sick. this was different. this was in a calmer setting. it was far more casual.

so, Charlotte doubted herself. it didn't feel warranted enough, even though the day before had been rough and realistically scary in its own right. 

she doubted herself, because she knew Becky loved her a little, but she didn't know if she loved her enough to allow this when they were both awake and aware. 

she doubted herself.

but before she could mold that doubt into an avenue of real retreat, Becky brought her fingers down to cover Charlotte's own, over her abdomen. she relaxed against her.

Charlotte nearly held her breath. she waited to see if it would be taken back, if she'd be let down easy, like so many times before—though those times had been unconscious on Becky's part.

but Becky stayed steady. she didn't move again. she didn't pull away. 

after just a minute or two, her breathing deepened, and she was asleep again.

so Charlotte finally relaxed too.

she stopped thinking and just let herself focus on the solidness of Becky's hands holding hers.

she fell asleep once more not long after, too quickly to remember to ask what it was he had wanted or why it was 'time sensitive.'

\---

the sound of the front door opening, mostly the beeping of the alarm that indicates an allowed entry, is what woke them up again.

they both sort of sat up halfway, mildly alarmed and thoroughly confused. 

"what?"

Becky's voice broke off with a yawn. she glanced back at Charlotte, but they were on the same level of loss as to what was happening.

"someone supposed to be coming over?"

Becky shook her head some. 

only a select few people had keys to her house. 

"Bayley and Sasha don't get in until tonight. so—." 

she cut off quickly. realization seemed to hit the both of them at the same time, just as his voice rang through the house. 

"Becks? baby?"

Becky's lips turned down sharply.

"he's not supposed to get back in for three days."

well, Charlotte figured out what he had been calling about, didn't she? 

and day five was certainly not going to be a good day, just as she'd suspected after she'd realized Becky had broken the routine and stayed with her.

it was always too good to be true. 

any time there was any variation of calm, someone upstairs decided to kick up some more dust and ruin it. 

they didn't want Charlotte to breathe right, to see clearly. 

it was just the dust she was meant for.

just the flowers. 

"'m gonna go shower."

she shifted and stood, stretched her arms and back out but still felt stiff when she relaxed the strain once more. 

her clothes from earlier were just where she'd set them back down, and they almost seemed to laugh at her, taunt her, tell her she should've just taken them and gone through with her plans to stay awake. maybe then she wouldn't have been feeling such a fresh wave of devastation, such a bursting of a bubble, so raw and vulnerably exposed.

maybe then she wouldn't have felt like she'd fooled herself  _again._ without even meaning to. 

holding the words and the actions was still enough to hoodwink her. holding Becky definitely didn't help. 

she managed to wait, until Becky's footsteps receded down the hall, until she was in the bathroom with the door shut, until she had the shower turned on, to let out the pressure in her chest. 

the petals weren't as abundant as the day before, but they weren't as few as they could've been. it was somewhere in between. 

they were pastel purple, soft and pleasant-looking, cruel in the way they contrasted how she felt.

she didn't even feel like researching or remembering what they meant. 

she got in the shower and tried to let the warmth of the water wash everything away. 

but the feeling of Becky against her was still there. 

and no amount of heat, no matter if she turned the handle all the way to the end of the red line, would be able to sear off the brand she had on her wrist. 

she wanted to curse, cry, curl up in a ball too, maybe. 

it felt like the brand had spread overnight, perhaps in the span of the few hours they'd spent asleep in the morning. 

it was on her whole body, and it wasn't going anywhere. it never went anywhere. 

she knew that.

she hated that she'd managed to forget it in only four days' time. 

she hated that she'd just been reminded so abruptly.

\---

for hours afterwards, she kept herself holed up in her room, just to ensure that she wouldn't run into or see him. as soon as she could, she messaged Sasha and told her about the development, and she got a simple reply of: ' _good thing we're coming in tonight, isn't it?'_

and, yes. that was definitely a good thing. Sasha and Bayley were Charlotte's godsends. they didn't mind acting as buffers in the conversation if he was participating—they never had—and Charlotte was eternally grateful for that. if she could construct monuments for them, she probably would. 

but all she could really do was get through the minutes until they came over, and then she'd have some of the pressure eased off of her. (life was all about how much pressure you could get off of you, it seemed. 

or that's what life had become after she got sick.

it was sad, really.)

Becky came knocking not long after Charlotte got out of the shower.

Charlotte found herself wishing she could hold grudges. 

“hey, Char.”

she looked up at Becky’s voice, and a small smile, minute and muted, made its way onto her lips, just as Becky was at her side and leaning down to brush a kiss across the line of her damp hair.

“hey.”

"how are you feeling?"

"'bout ready to run a 5k. you down?"

Becky's chuckle made her feel lighter; it had always been able to ease off some of that pressure. 

"i'm going to take a raincheck on that for now. but someday, yeah?"

Charlotte nodded, with the sense of someone whose vision didn't need hindsight to see clearly. 

"you got it."

Becky's lips upturned a little, but she was distracted. she shifted her weight between her feet, that indicator of nerves Charlotte was so familiar with.

"hey, so, i'm sorry he surprised us both earlier." Becky eyes flitted down and back up. "when we talked on the phone i was half asleep, and i told him i'd call him back later, and he didn't mention that he was already in the city and on the way to the house. when he got here, he said he was going to tell me on the phone but then figured it could be a surprise."

Charlotte fought to keep her face free of any lines or creases that could indicate the semi-selfish irritation that was present at the forefront of her thoughts.

"i told him the heads up would've actually been nice, because... well it  _would've_."

Becky ran a hand through her hair with a mild sigh.

"but, anyways, yeah. i—i didn't know, and i would've told you if i had."

there was a lingering message of 'i promise' in the air. 

Charlotte nodded. she believed Becky, of course.

and she said, "it's fine," of course. 

and Becky seemed a little unsure, like she didn't think the conversation should end there but also like she didn't know what would need to be said to continue it. so, she nodded too, with less firmness.

"ok." she checked her watch. "so, i need to run to the grocery to get more ingredients for your tea. i'm not sure when i'll be back, but it shouldn't take long. he's at the gym right now. Sasha and Bayley will probably be here in about three hours." she listed everything off like she was reminding herself, more so than she was informing Charlotte. she patted down her pockets for her keys and her phone, and then she looked up again. "you'll call if you need anything, right?"

"'course."

"alright. i'll be back. don't trash the place while i'm gone."

"i'll try to restrain myself," Charlotte replied. she lifted her hand. "i solemnly swear."

"okay, nerd." Becky walked back over and pressed another kiss to the side of her head. "see you in a bit."

Charlotte felt the pressure of Becky's lips for longer than she wanted to. 

she coughed up a few more of those same petals. (the same pastel purple, soft and pleasant-looking, cruel in the way they contrasted how she felt.)

and, afterwards, her throat felt dry, so she tiptoed her way out of her room, down the hall, down the stairs. 

she grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and let herself feel the silence that was settled over the house. 

the sun was shining outside, so the lowness of the lights around her didn't result in a legitimate loss of luminescence. it didn't make anything feel dreary.

she actually felt like she needed the change of scenery, so she walked towards the living room instead of her own.

when she passed by the foot of the stairs, she saw his bags still sat by the door: a protruding and physical reminder that even when it seemed like he wasn't there, he was. a reminder she still needed, after all the time she'd spent saying she knew that already, after the four days she'd spent managing to forget and feel like Becky's home was her own.

it was a reminder she needed.

the water tasted sour going down, but she knew that was just her tongue being bitter.

she spent some amount of time just sitting on the couch, watching the dance of the dust particles in the rays coming through the windows. she blinked slow and didn't think much, which was a nice change of pace. 

but then she heard a vehicle pulling up outside, and it was too rough of a sound, too intentionally noisy, to have been Becky's car. so, that meant it was his truck. 

Charlotte stood to make her retreat, but the front door opened right when she was on the bottom step. 

"hey, Charlotte," he greeted, with the obvious intent of halting her movements. she tightened her grip on the handrail but still turned just a tad to acknowledge him. "do you think we could talk?"

he gestured to the living room, the very place Charlotte had just tried to escape. it was just her luck. 

she bit back a sigh. she refrained from letting her eyes close in exhaustion. 

"yeah," she said, because she had told Becky to tell him they'd talk another time, though she hadn't particularly meant it. "right now?" 

"yeah, please. i just need to change out of these clothes, real quick."

Charlotte resigned herself to just following the path of events the day had set out for her. 

"okay." 

she stepped down off of the staircase and walked back into the living room. she sat on the couch once more, in the same spot as before, and she waited while he went upstairs, into Becky's room, the one he shared with her. 

the silence from before was unsettling then, so she turned the tv on just for the white noise of it. 

when his footsteps approached, she didn't flinch like she wanted to. she didn't pay him any mind, actually. even when he sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch, leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands together.

even when he looked at her, she didn't feel like looking at him. she, truthfully, didn't feel like looking at anything. she wanted to close her eyes, but, again, she refrained. 

so, for a while, they both kept their gazes on the tv. they existed within a unique type of tension that Charlotte had come to despise. 

Charlotte passingly wondered what the quiet between him and Becky felt like. she wondered if it landed closer on the spectrum to the one they were in or to how her and Becky's usually was: without tension, without expectations.

she wondered if she could just get up and walk away, or if there would be consequences to that. maybe he would follow her. maybe he wouldn't. 

she didn't know.

she started to realize as they sat there that she knew nothing about him, really. she didn't know what his normal reactions were. she had never spent one on one time with him, and, whereas before that felt like an advantage—a win—in that moment, it felt like she'd set herself up for failure.

she was in unfamiliar territory, and she was unsure of how to navigate it. she didn't have a map or a compass. she was traveling blindly. 

she cleared her throat some and finally worked up the resolve to look over at him. but then it was her that was waiting again. he continued to look at the tv. 

Charlotte was about to follow suit, rather content to not speak with him at all. she got halfway there, but then he said, “i know that it’s her," and her eyes moved right back over to see that he'd shifted his attention while she'd been blinking.

their gazes met. the way she watched him could only be deemed as tired. 

she didn’t have the  _energy_  to look panicked, to act frantic, but she did feel a spike of adrenaline shoot through her veins. she subtly pressed her fingernails into her thigh, with the hand he couldn't see.

she couldn't say she was surprised. 

she honestly had almost been expecting it. 

she thought, briefly, about if denying it would help at all, but it hadn't ever worked in the past, and if anyone else would know what it looked like to be in love with Becky, it would be him.

she tilted her head, instead, and licked her lips. 

“are you going to tell her?”

and, oh, how funny it was to have the question flipped on someone else. if not funny, then at least ironic.

“no.” she swallowed relief down. “i’d be stupid to.”

her eyebrows furrowed. she cleared her throat again.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean that if you or i told her that she’s the one you’re in love with, the one you’re dying because of, i wouldn’t stand a chance.” he shook his head lightly, with a small, almost concealed scoff. “i barely stand a chance as it is, but after that? forget about it.”

Charlotte shifted some. she crossed her arms over her chest. she kept her face impassive and cool—an easy action around him—but when she said, “i’m her best friend,” slowly, she allowed a crease of displeasure to show on her forehead, the one she had been suppressing earlier, before Becky left. “it would hurt her to know, definitely, but i don't think i see the point you're trying to make.”

he looked at her significantly and went to open his mouth again but decided against it. he seemed to think better of trying to clarify.

the single crease spread and deepened into a full frown. 

they sat in silence again, but it was a stare off then. and if Charlotte wasn't so stubborn, she would have walked away like she'd been contemplating before.

but she refused to back down. she refused to let him feel like he had the upper hand in anything, especially since he seemed to be taking the conversation down a road marked, 'dead end.'

“she doesn’t do anything but talk about and take care of you," he finally responded.

and Charlotte unexpectedly felt that guilt, always simmering under the surface, flare up at his words. it tried to say,  _'he's got a_   _point.'_

"she deserves to have a life outside of you. she hasn't been answering my calls or texts, because she's been so caught up in you and your drama.”

Charlotte's jaw ticked one, two, three times. she nearly marveled at how horribly he'd darkened her mood in just a minute or two.

when she spoke again, she spoke lowly.

“i never said she doesn’t deserve a life outside of me. but it’s her choice to take care of me." that's what she had been telling herself, at least. "i didn’t ask her to, and i didn’t have to. when you care about people, you take care of them.”

"so, why aren't you taking care of her?" he asked. "you're taking up all of her time and energy and attention. don't you think that's a little selfish?"

"I'm  _dying,"_ Charlotte said, before she could think better of it. "if anyone is being selfish, it's  _you_." her voice got harsh; the ever-present bitterness had just been waiting for any chance at some release. "you're going to spend the rest of your life with her, but you're acting like an immature asshole because she won't answer your calls while she takes care of me? marriage and relationships are about being partners,  _equals_ , and, yet, you haven't been helping her with anything else while she helps me. you say you're concerned about the burden on her, but what the hell have you been doing to relieve it?"

his eyes glinted, flashed with something fierce, and in that second, Charlotte felt like her strength would be there if she needed it. she almost itched for him to do anything to provoke her further.

but, instead, he stayed quiet. he bit his tongue again, this time out of the inability to come up with something solid to refute her statements.

Charlotte scoffed, and she was so suddenly fed up that she didn't stop herself: “you don’t deserve her.”

but to her surprise, he let out a laugh at that, and he watched her with a shake of his head.

“but i  _have_   _her_ , don't i?” he replied, leaning forward just a little more. (and Charlotte felt that urge again, to stand up and do something. she wanted to throttle him. she had half a mind to call Sasha and have her do it for her.) “and there's nothing you can do about it. we both know you’re not going to tell her about this conversation, because we both know that i’m the one she wants to be with. deserve has nothing to do with it.”

and that took all the fight out of her.

it was the core of it all.

Becky had chosen him. not Charlotte.

they both knew that.

"so, what was the point of this conversation, then, exactly? to rub it in? to assert your dominance?"

he smirked.

"if you're so worried about not hurting her, then maybe stay somewhere else for a bit and let her have some room to breathe. let her get used to the idea of you not being around."

Charlotte's chest smarted. her flowers wanted to fight just as badly as she had just a few seconds before. 

"the sooner she becomes more familiar with your absence, the better, don't you think? you want to ease her into the loss, so she'll be better equipped to handle it when it becomes permanent."

Charlotte's anger rose to the base of her neck. she felt it like liquid heat, pure lava. she was positive that it was going to start spewing from her mouth in the form of searing syllables.

but then the door opened.

there was always an interruption.

she bit down on her tongue hard enough to draw some blood, but she swallowed it down like she always did when it came with the petals.

"hey!"

his voice mutated into the one she recognized, and the way he switched over made chills ripple across her skin. she pressed her nails harder against her thigh.

"hey," Becky greeted, looking between them, from him to Charlotte and back again, as he stood and made his way to her. "what's up?"

Charlotte knew she wasn't really asking him. she knew she was thrown off by the sight of them sitting alone in the same vicinity.

Charlotte didn't have her usual capability of keeping it all under the surface. the lava was trying to scorch her esophagus.

so, she didn't glance over to meet Becky's eyes. 

"not much. you find everything at the grocery?"

Charlotte stood as he kissed Becky in greeting, after his question. she walked to the other entrance and stepped into the hall, so that all she could see was the back of Becky's head as she made it to the staircase.  

she thought about locking the door of her room once she got inside, but she knew that it would worry Becky, so, she didn't. 

she did pretend to be asleep, though—turned over and away—when Becky came around again. 

she squeezed her eyelids together tight enough to see bursts of color across the backs of them. she was simply trying to keep her bile at bay. 

she wanted Becky to join her, to hug her and hold her like she had when it was just them. but Becky didn’t.

and Charlotte realized that might have been for the best.

just because she wanted something, didn’t mean it was healthy, beneficial, for either one of them.

he was incredibly rude, borderline cruel, with his delivery, and Charlotte hated to admit it, but he made a valid point.

Becky wasn’t going to cope well in the beginning without Charlotte. Charlotte was Becky’s best friend, her travel partner, the one that was there at the end of the long days and the one that was there at the beginning of the early mornings.

losing her would be hard, irrefutably harsh, and Charlotte was aware of that. 

so, maybe it was needed for Charlotte to let someone else take care of her for a while. 

because for every step forward, for every fleeting thought that came that said maybe she should just confess, for every remembrance of Billie's words to do just that, it felt like they took three steps backwards. 

because Becky was with him. not Charlotte. 

she had chosen him. not Charlotte.

and if she loved Charlotte, she would've chosen her.

Charlotte had tried to have hope. she had tried to think of all the possibilities. 

but sometimes things were simple. 

and if Becky loved Charlotte, she would've chosen her.

it wasn't that complicated.

\---

Charlotte never actually went to sleep. 

when Becky left, she stayed in her spot for a few minutes more, just in case she changed her mind and came back. 

and when she didn't, Charlotte simply sat up in her bed.

she looked over at the empty side, the side Becky had taken up for three nights, and she stretched her hand out against it. she smoothed her fingers over the wrinkles in the sheets, and she almost leaned over to see if the other pillowcase still held Becky's scent. 

she could still feel the brand on her wrist, over her body, too; no amount of scrubbing did her any good.

she sniffed.

her eyes were teary, but they wouldn't shed any moisture. 

her limbs were heavy, but she couldn't rest. 

day five was truly shaping up to be a bad one.

"Charlie?" 

Charlotte jumped, a full-on jolt of her nerves, at the sound of Becky's voice beside her. 

she blinked quickly, at the images and thoughts and tears. 

when she turned her head, Becky was standing beside her, but she was further away than normal. she had a careful, cautious air about her, like she wanted to come closer but thought Charlotte might not like her to. 

"hey," Charlotte breathed out, hoarsely. "what's up?"

"Bayley and Sasha are here," Becky said slowly, eyes bouncing between Charlotte's own as if she could maybe figure everything out if she cracked their code.

Charlotte was grateful that it was too difficult in the darkness of the room. 

"oh. okay. i'll be down in a sec. thank you."

Becky nodded. she acted like she was going to take a step away, but she hesitated almost forcefully. her motions looked jerky. 

she bit down on her bottom lip, and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that Charlotte was worried her turmoil was trying to knit them together with permanence. 

a sympathetic pang reverberated through her, against her will, really.

she thought about asking if Becky was alright, how she was feeling, what she was mulling over in her mind. 

but Charlotte's own mind was compromised. she wasn't thinking straight. it all felt sideways and too slippery to keep her grip on. 

so, instead, without preamble or preparation, she whispered: "i was thinking that i can probably stay with them tonight. Sasha and Bayley, i mean."

Becky's head snapped up harshly. Charlotte feared she'd gotten whiplash. 

"what?" came the almost breathless question. "why—?"

"i was just thinking that maybe i could get out of your hair for a bit. give you some time to yourself."

Becky looked almost painfully confused, completely caught off guard, far more troubled than before.

“Charlotte, you—you don’t have to go anywhere," she said. "i mean..." she gestured emptily. "you  _can_ , if you really want to, but i—i like having you here." she got quieter. "with me.”

Charlotte swallowed. it sounded an awful lot like a choice, but it wasn't. 

“well, i just…" she trailed off and attempted to find the right words. "you've been taking care of me, and i appreciate it so much, more than you know even. but i just don't want you to only focus on me. you... you deserve to focus on other things."

and that was a safer answer, she thought. but Becky still seemed like she couldn't see the validity in the argument. she seemed like she thought the whole notion was preposterous. 

so, Charlotte tried again with: "and, you know, he just came back, and you just got engaged, and i—i don't want to impose on y'all."

“you’re _not_ ,” Becky said swiftly, as that troubled expression further contorted her features. “why would you...? did… did he say you were?”

Charlotte hesitated too fully—was far too surprised by how Becky had called it so easily—before she said, “no,” and so Becky saw right through her. 

that troubled expression transformed into something more. the realization washed over Becky's features fluidly, like the flip of a switch, and Charlotte just about cursed. 

"no, look, Becks, it wasn't—."

"don't lie to me, Charlotte. did he tell you that you should stay somewhere else? seriously?"

Charlotte couldn't bring herself to say, "yes," because she didn't want to have to reveal anything else of what they'd talked about. she didn't want to expose  _why_ he had told her to stay somewhere else. 

but she couldn't say, "no," because Becky had told her not to lie to her. 

so, she settled for an in-between. she tilted her chin down and let her eyes do the same. 

but, really, that was just as good as a "yes" for Becky. they'd never needed words to get their messages across, so that moment was no different. (a lot of things changed, but that never had.)

Charlotte should've just lied. 

Becky inhaled a little sharply, like she was taking in the knowledge and it hurt. 

Charlotte's sympathy smarted again. she wanted to do what she could to soothe the woman. 

and, maybe, that did mean lying. 

"he's worried about you stressing over me and forgetting to take care of yourself, is all, Becks. it's—it's not as bad as it sounds."

Becky's jaw had already hardened. Charlotte's words couldn't reach her. 

"is that so? is that really what he meant?" Charlotte didn't have the chance to reply. "or is that what you're worried about and you're covering for him?" 

Charlotte stuttered, and Becky wiped a hand across her face. Charlotte could see the color darkening with each new second.

Becky's anger was brewing. this was where the fire came in.

"god, what the  _fuck?_  i mean, i knew he was upset about me not going on the trip, and he was complaining about me not answering calls and texts, but—but this is... this is fucked up."

"Becky..."

Becky drew in another breath through her nose, strong and an attempt at stabilizing herself. her hands were on her hips, and her head was dropped a little. Charlotte knew her jaw was clenched, even though the sight of it was blocked by the orange curtain of her hair.

"Becks, listen—."

Becky straightened her spine.

"i'm gonna go talk to him."

"what? Becky you just said Bayley and Sasha are here. it's not—."

"it won't take long."

Charlotte trailed behind Becky as she went out of the room; it was the most natural progression, after all. like a string was attached between them and anywhere Becky went, Charlotte would follow. 

"Becky, it's fine. i was just suggesting it. if you want me to stay, then i will."

"it's not about that anymore."

Charlotte's stomach started to feel tremulous with trepidation.

she still walked as Becky led, because she didn't know where else she was supposed to be, but it was a blind stumbling almost. it always was. 

when Becky stood at the front entrance of the living room, when Charlotte heard his voice and then Bayley's, is when the panic started to drift down to make her ears hum. it was like Charlotte was watching a car crash from the sidewalk. she couldn't do anything to stop it, and that became utterly clear when Becky said, "can i speak with you for a second? privately?" in that same firm voice.

"me?" came his response, and Charlotte started to retreat backwards, down the hall, past the second entrance and into the kitchen. 

she didn't want to go to Sasha and Bayley for once, because she was starting to shake, and she couldn't entirely explain why.

she heard him and Becky stop walking in the foyer.

their voices were low for a bit, and Charlotte couldn't make out what they were saying. she squeezed her bottom lip between her thumb and her forefinger. 

the air was stagnant for the span of about sixty seconds, and then Becky's voice got louder, out of indignation, mostly.

“how dare you say that to her?”

“well, it’s true!” he was quick to shoot back, and Charlotte wanted to mind her business, to stay out of it, but anyone raising their voice at Becky had her on alert. she started to edge her way closer.

“no it isn’t, and i can’t believe you think it is! how can you be so selfish?”

"how is that me being selfish? i'm looking out for you!"

Becky scoffed, just as Charlotte made it to the doorway of the more formal dining room. the double doors were almost closed, they were open a crack. she could just manage to see through.

"if you don't understand why that's selfish, then you need to do some serious thinking. and i don't want you to do that thinking here."

Charlotte's shock shuddered through her bones. 

she watched him step closer, and it was then, in that instant, that she truly realized how much larger he was than Becky, in terms of height and width. she had avoided looking at him,  _actually_ looking at him, as much as she could, so she’d never taken the time to properly analyze the starkness of the difference.

but in that moment, she recognized it, and she analyzed it, and she disliked it.

and while Becky looked back unflinchingly, while she was unafraid and clearly had faith that he wouldn’t do anything regretful, still, the image made Charlotte ready to move. her instincts were in full control. her logic never won out in the face of that well-developed and well-honed inclination to protect Becky from any potential harm: physical, emotional, or other.

“you can’t be serious right now,” he ground out. “you’re making me  _leave_?”

“you need to go think,” Becky replied, coolly, completely collected in the face of his growing temper. “and, truthfully, i don’t want to see you right now. so, yeah, i’d like you to leave.”

“that’s funny that you specify ‘right now,’” he barked with a sharp laugh, losing all semblance of appeasement and switching straight to acridity. “because you never really want to see me these days, it seems. you know, you shouldn’t have said yes if you didn’t _mean it_ , Becky.”

“and what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“it means that i’m  _always_ going to be second in line to  _her,_ and either of us thinking otherwise was idiotic. me thinking that, if i proposed to you, i’d  _finally_ be the top priority in your life was idiotic. i realize that now. because i'm just trying to look out for you, and you're  _still_ choosing her."

“so... what," Becky raised her hands and then let them fall against her legs again with one distinct sound of a clap. "are you asking for your ring back?”

“should i be?”

Becky’s silence then was nearly deafening. and Charlotte felt like she really needed to go, but that urge to remain close in case things got out of hand was too strong. so she lingered, just out of sight.

he let out a scoff, and Charlotte swallowed hard.

“i can’t believe this. this is so _ridiculous_."

Becky’s voice was steely when she said, “i believe i told you to go somewhere else. take a walk and cool off.”

Charlotte was honestly surprised by how cold the statement came out, how unlike Becky it sounded. he seemed to be as well; Charlotte couldn’t see his face, but she pictured incredulously raised eyebrows.

there was a beat, then two. 

then: “jesus, do you even care about me at all?” is what he asked. “i mean, fuck, Becky, has it ever meant anything?”

“of course it has. this has nothing to do with that, and you know it.”

he shook his head sharply enough for Charlotte to notice. he lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, and the fleeting thought that the shade of the strands was similar to her own passed by like a blip on the screen, barely even acknowledged.

“i guess i’ve known from the start,” he sighed out, sounding defeated but somehow defensive enough to still have Charlotte feeling irreversibly tense. “i mean, you’ve never looked at me the way you look at her. i knew that. i just thought it would change someday.”

there was a hurt in his voice that was deep and intrinsic, and Charlotte could have almost felt bad for him, if her head hadn’t been reeling and trying to wrap around all the implications of his words.

“but then she got sick and i knew, i  _knew_ , i didn’t stand a chance against that. how could i ever compete against her dying in front of you? how could i ever be better than the martyr?”

that teetering along the edge of sympathy was abruptly withdrawn and stabilized even further. Charlotte saw Becky’s face shift seriously, and she knew that any aching of the heart the woman might have felt for her fiancé was cured too.

“get the hell out of my house,” came the instruction, fierce and firm. “and take your ring too.”

that mirthless, less than melodic, laugh came bursting back out of his lips, and Charlotte felt a chill roll through her spine. her shaking had worsened. 

“you’re not even wearing it, love.” he waved a hand. “but don’t bother retrieving it from whatever place you’ve stashed it away. i’ll get it later.”

he inched closer, and Becky glared up at him. Charlotte’s toes twitched with the want to walk again.

“i hope you get your shit together. i really do.” another inch. “but if you don’t, i can’t say you won’t deserve it.” Charlotte couldn’t bring herself to resist any longer. “ _you’re_ selfish, Becky. not me. you let people give and give and give you love, but what do we get in return? a broken promise of ‘i do?’” he scoffed. “a lungful of flow—.”

the distance Charlotte had kept was gone then, and she reached out without fully processing the consequences that could come. she laid her hand on his shoulder, not roughly but still surprisingly.

“hey, that’s enough, man—.”

the elbow that came caught her clean across the bridge of her nose; it was a knee jerk reaction to the unexpected contact. it sent her stumbling to the side with that same hand suddenly cupped around it protectively.

“Charlotte!”

Becky was at her side in an instant, hands on her back and attempting to help her balance out once more.

Charlotte blinked in shock for a few seconds, and when she drew her hand back to gaze at it, when she saw red against her palm, it took her even longer to comprehend what it meant.

Becky, however, was aware without delay.

“oh my god. okay. just stay right here, i’ll get you a towel.”

the blood was flowing more fully at that point, it was seeping through Charlotte’s fingers and off of her hand, onto her shirt and onto the floor. it wasn’t a gushing, but it was steady and intent on making her skin slick and stained with red.

her ears had that ring in them, that always came after some sort of blow, and so when she heard more commotion—Sasha and Bayley’s voices—she didn’t really register the sentiments or statements expressed.

but when he said “i didn’t mean—,” she caught that, even though they wouldn’t let him close enough to finish.

“get the fuck out of here,” Sasha directed him away, as Bayley stood right in front of Charlotte, with her hands placed atop her biceps to keep her steady.

“are you alright?” she asked.

she was looking at Charlotte with irrevocable concern, irrefutable worry. but Charlotte was getting past the initial shock, and she’d had worse injuries, so she looked up and met his gaze as he walked backwards and away.

something passed between them then. he had a look of final defeat on his face. 

he turned away with sympathy, but it was directed at himself more than anything. 

"here, Char." 

Becky was before her then, guiding her towards the stairs because it was the closest place she could take a seat. Charlotte reached up and accepted the towel that was offered to her.

"'m fine," she said, as she pressed it to her nose. "i've had a bloody nose before. it's fine."

and it was. but there was still a sudden pulsing right between her eyes. and Becky was a little blurry around the edges. 

so, Charlotte let herself be looked after, even though she was kind of sick of that being her routine. 

and when the bleeding slowed some, Becky had her pull the towel away so she could inspect her nose and look for the telltale signs of a break. she didn't seem to find any, but she kept staring anyway, as if her eyes could run over the hurt enough to make it disappear.

Charlotte couldn't help but do the same. 

she couldn't help but notice that there was a strain in the line of Becky's jaw, in the downturn of her lips, in the muscles of her forehead.

her eyes were looking, but they weren't really seeing anymore. she was there, but she wasn't, and Charlotte wanted to pull her out of what she was drowning in. 

“are you okay?”

Becky's gaze focused back in. Charlotte watched her pupils dilate. 

it seemed to take her a second to process what Charlotte had asked, and once she did, she didn't even provide an answer.

“Charlotte, jesus, how are you even asking me that right now?”

Charlotte shrugged, a half-hearted lifting of only one of her shoulders. 

“he said some rough stuff," she tried to explain. "and, really—.”

“chin up, Charlie,” Becky instructed, taking the towel from where Charlotte's hands had started to slacken in their spot. 

Charlotte tilted her head back a little more before continuing with, “this is nothing.”

Becky let out a harsh sigh, all through her mouth. the strain in her jaw solidified for a moment in the form of a single tick, a passing clench.

her voice got lower.

“i can’t believe he did that.”

“i shouldn’t have snuck up on him.”

“i mean all of it," Becky quickly clarified. "i can’t believe he said what he said to you. i can’t believe he's being so selfish. i can't believe he couldn't see how selfish he's being. i mean, what kind of person only thinks about themselves so much that—that the knowledge of someone’s _sickness_ doesn’t—.”

"i don't know, Becks," Charlotte interrupted, gently, before Becky could get herself worked up again. "this whole... situation is confusing. it doesn't come with a handbook. we're all just trying to make the right decisions. do i think he succeeded? no. do i think he loves you, though? yeah. and that counts for something, at least."

“it doesn't count for enough anymore. you love me too.” Charlotte nearly choked on her spit. “and so do Sasha and Bayley, and you three would’ve never done or said the stuff that he did, if the roles were reversed. he's a grown man, not a child. if he can't see or comprehend the bigger picture then..."

Becky lost her voice. she got lost in her head again.

Charlotte didn't know what to say to pull her out that time. 

so, she just let herself be taken care of. 

she let herself receive hugs from Sasha and Bayley, and she gave them thankful squeezes of their fingers when they told her to get some rest, to sleep off the headache.

they would be staying in the second guest room downstairs, the room Charlotte remembered as an office but realized must have been changed at some point while she steered clear of staying at Becky's place.

they said they would see her in the morning, and Charlotte knew that meant they'd want to talk, but she didn't worry about it in the moment. 

she just let Becky lead her up and give her painkillers.

she said, "thank you," in a soft, rasped voice, and Becky almost looked pained upon hearing it.

"get some sleep, Char," she replied faintly. "let me know if you need anything."

Charlotte nodded. she watched Becky go with the desire to make her stay still alight within her chest.

she thought about the night before, just as she'd been doing all day, and she marveled at how quickly things could change, how much they could shift in such a short span of time. 

because she'd managed to forget in four days. 

and the peace had been stolen in less than one. 

her conversation with him had lasted less than a few minutes, and Becky's fight was the same.

the elbow had come in the blink of an eye, within the length of a sentence.

it was all enough to send anyone reeling.

time was truly such a tricky thing, and so much could happen in just a little of it.

and, yet, it never stopped moving.

time waited for no one.

it continued on.

it counted down. 

_\---_

_i saw a world without you there._

_somehow you weren't mine._

_\---_

at about two in the morning, Charlotte heard a knock on her door, soft but scattered. she sat up straighter. she couldn't even pretend she'd been asleep.

"Charlie? you awake?"

"yeah," she called. "come in."

she paid no mind to the sound of the handle turning and clicking out of place. she was still looking at her phone. because it wasn't uncommon for Becky to check on her, because she would have been surprised if Becky hadn't checked on her at some point.

the television was on, noise for her in the background, and she assumed Becky had heard it and figured out she was still awake. 

it took about four steps until Becky was in the room fully—it always did—and that's when Charlotte turned her attention, carefully, as too much movement of her head made her nose ache dully.

“hey.”

Becky actually came into her line of sight then, and all of Charlotte's casualness dissipated. she was immediately on alert. 

“Becks, what—?”

“can i—can you—.” Becky wiped at her face, and Charlotte saw in the low light of her lamp that it was blotchy, red, a little swollen from tears that had already been shed—tears Charlotte hadn’t been able to wipe away. “can you do me a favor?”

Charlotte set her phone down at her side, and she pushed the covers off of her lap. she went to stand, but Becky put a hand on her shoulder just as she got her legs over the edge of the mattress.

“no, don’t stand, save your strength. i just—it doesn’t require you to get up, but it’s still a favor.”

Charlotte looked up at Becky, who appeared like she was one false step away from faltering. she was confused, but she knew the time to ask questions was not then. she assumed that the events from earlier had finally caught up to the woman.

“of course, sweetheart,” she replied, a promise she could keep. “anything you want, you got it.”

Charlotte would wholeheartedly try to run that 5k, in her condition, if Becky asked, and Becky knew that.

her chin wobbled at the reminder.

“can i have a hug?” she asked, almost a croak, hoarse and cracked. “with no questions?”

Charlotte’s limbs felt heavy and hot with dread, at the sound of Becky’s voice, at the raw, unadulterated upset it held. she nodded like it was the only motion she’d ever known how to make.

“of course, my love.”

something about the nickname—not a new one, not an unknown one; familiar and well-worn—made Becky stop fighting her feelings of turmoil. she walked right into Charlotte’s awaiting arms.

she grasped at the backs of Charlotte’s shoulders, tangled her fingers into the hair at the nape of Charlotte’s neck, pressed her cheek into the top of Charlotte’s head as her shoulders rounded in with a sob.

Charlotte used every inch of her arm-span to hold Becky to her and bring her close.

it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since she'd hugged her, but it felt like it had been an eternity. the morning felt so far away.

so did the peace.

they were flipped over on their heads, turned around and inside out. 

everything had started to come down on them all at once, and they hadn't prepared for it. they _should've_ prepared for it, but they didn't.

so, Becky was heartbroken, and Charlotte was almost hastily heading down a path that would eventually have to be taken alone.

but she would hold on for as long as she could. she would hold Becky together until the very last second. 

so, they stayed that way for a while, until Becky's crying eased into intervals of sniffling. 

Charlotte had long since shut her eyes, had almost fallen asleep, as she lightly scratched her fingertips over Becky's back.

she only opened them again when Becky eventually breathed out an, “i’m sorry."

she pulled back a little, so that they could look at each other directly. 

“why? i’m not.”

Becky's throat bobbed.

“it feels selfish to make you comfort me.”

“s’not selfish,” Charlotte insisted immediately.

Becky seemed like she didn't quite agree, and Charlotte hated that even with her, even with how comfortable they'd always been with one another, the sickness had managed to infiltrate their interactions as well. she'd thought that if there was anyone who would still treat her relatively the same, it would have been Becky.

she sighed. 

“i’m the same as before, Becky," she said. "and that means i always want you to be comforted. it means i will always try to comfort you. it means it’s a _two-way_ street. to the end of the line.”

Becky’s stability suddenly wavered again, right when it had started to settle back into place. Charlotte wondered how many times a human could manage to mess up in a single day, and if she'd managed to break the record yet.

because she had slipped up, and she knew that. she had mentioned the end, and that was forbidden. it was territory not meant to be tread. it was an unspoken agreement, to not acknowledge that doomsday was upon them.

when fresh tears fell, Charlotte reached up to wipe them away.

“no, i’m sorry,” she mumbled. “please stop crying. it’s alright.”

Becky shook her head, like she was trying to shake the remembrance of something out of her head but couldn’t.

"i'm sorry," Charlotte said again, earnestly, so, so sadly. "i didn't mean to say—."

“i dreamt i was too late,” Becky whimpered out, as explanation, eyes squeezed shut but still shedding tears.

Charlotte's heart faltered.

"what?"

the pain in Becky's expression intensified.

“you were calling for me," she said. "and—and you needed help, and i was _too late_." the dread from before began to stage a full tumult in Charlotte's stomach. "i didn’t make it in time, and i lost you.” Charlotte disregarded all of her orders then and stood so that she could give Becky something to fully fall into, someone that she could be small against, weak against. she didn’t stumble, she didn’t strain; her strength returned and held true, for the sole purpose of holding Becky together. “you needed me, and i didn’t  _make it_.”

“shh,” Charlotte whispered into Becky’s ear, lowering her head down so their faces could be closer together. “it’s alright. you are here. you’re with me. i'm with you.”

“but for how  _long_ , Charlie?" Becky asked, looking up at her with eyes that would have bled if they were able. "how long am i gonna be able to be with you? how long are you going to be _with me_?" her voice cracked. "it’s like we’re just _waiting_ on the time to be up. it's like you don’t even care that there’s a time limit. you don’t even care that you’re  _dying_.”

Charlotte frowned.

fractures were starting to form. they were now fully immersed in the forbidden territory, it seemed, traversing through terrain that was designed to tear them down—and apart—at any false step.

“that’s not true.”

“isn’t it?” Becky asked, finally pulling back and away, out of Charlotte’s reach, just barely, just like always. “god, Charlotte, i— _i don’t_   _understand_.”

Charlotte’s arms always felt pointless without Becky there in them, and they did then too. (and a familiar sensation in unfamiliar territory made for dangerous decisions, she’d learned before.)

“Becky…”

“just—why are you so resigned about it all, Charlotte? why—why aren't we doing _every single thing_ possible to try to save you? why are we only doing the treatments that slow it down? why have we just seemed to accept it?”

“i…” Charlotte searched for the right words. her eyes darted away, like maybe she’d find them in some crevice or corner of the room. “i’ve already told you…”

“have you?” Becky retorted. “or have you just let me assume that i know the answer of why you’re not doing anything to talk to the person?”

Charlotte pressed her lips together.

“we haven’t actually  _addressed_ it, Charlotte. but it’s in everything we do now. the way you talk and move and breathe is controlled by this—this sickness, and we’ve been tiptoeing around discussing it. because it’s scary, and because it’s horrible, yes, obviously." Becky tugged lightly at the roots of her hair with both hands. "but we need to talk about it. we don’t have any more time to waste. we don't have anything left to _lose_.”

Charlotte's mind flashed back to earlier, to Becky's fight with him. she thought about what Becky had lost already, because of her. 

she pressed the flat tips of her fingers into her sore eyelids. 

she knew Becky was right. 

Sasha was right. Bayley was right. Billie was right. 

there was nothing left to lose. 

the only thing left to lose was Charlotte's life, and that should've been enough motivation for Charlotte to pull those words from where they were hiding in her lungs. 

_I love you._

three words. three syllables. eight letters. 

it seemed to easy. 

the movies made it seem so easy. 

there was always a swelling of the music, a close up of the protagonist, a brief pause, and then the words that would save it all. 

the ending was always happy, and the person always loved them back, and it wasn't realistic. 

realistic was being in love with your best friend for years, for every single second of every single day since you'd met them, and still not knowing. 

because they had promised themselves to someone else. because they were standing there in front of her, looking like they loved her, but wouldn't say it either. 

and, god, Charlotte never wanted to shout  _at_ Becky. she never wanted to raise her voice or be rude. but in that moment she did want to yell. she wanted to scream, because if everyone _else_ could see how in love she was with Becky, how come the woman herself was so blind to it?

was it willful ignorance? was it not?

Becky wasn’t cruel. if she knew for sure, she would tell Charlotte she knew. right?

of course she would.

so, there was no way she knew. but there was also really no reason for her not to know, and it made Charlotte want to scream.

she didn’t want Becky to feel guilty over her condition, no. but she still felt jilted sometimes. she still sometimes reflected upon that first feeling she’d had when Becky had brought him around and said they were together.

because it had been so unexpected, and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

a time where Charlotte had finally worked up the courage. had finally had Sasha and Bayley nearly slap the sense into her. had said she was finally going to do it, and had it all planned out.

Becky’s birthday had been coming up, and Charlotte knew that she wanted to go to a specific concert that would be in the same town as one of their shows the night before.

she had gotten the tickets, had made dinner reservations, had prepared her speech. 

she had been on the protagonist's journey. she was going to say the words. 

but that was when she'd learned it was unrealistic. life wasn't like the movies. 

Becky had introduced him to Charlotte the day of their show, the day before her birthday, the day before the concert. 

she had come to her with that sort of nervous, sort of dreadful smile on her face, and she had said, "i want you to meet someone."

and that was when Charlotte stopped believing that any of it—the smiles, the touches, the specific and special way Becky's eyes crinkled only in Charlotte's direction—meant anything.

because Becky had someone else. Becky had a guy, and she didn't want Charlotte in that way, and Charlotte knew she would just have to be okay with that. 

so, she’d left the tickets in an envelope on the pillow by Becky's head the next morning, with a note that’d said:

_happy birthday! i got these for you, because you’ve been talking about seeing them for forever. my dad called and said he needed me, so i couldn’t give them to you in person, but i will see you soon, to give you a proper birthday hug. have fun and stay safe._

_I love you._

_Charlotte x_

and that was that. Charlotte had received an enthusiastic message later on, filled with thanks and appreciation and "you're the best ever, i hope you know." she'd gotten a flood of photos the day after, of the band, and the lights and the fun, and she saw, in a few of them, him in the background, enjoying all of that with Becky.

and that was that. the lesson was learned.

she'd told her father to just say he had needed assistance with something in his house if Becky were to ask him, and she'd told him not to question it. she was glad he didn't. 

she'd gotten drunk that night but pulled herself together the next day. 

she had to push through. she couldn't wallow around because she was too slow to do anything. 

but apparently she could. her body could.

because that was the moment, where her love went from uncertain to unrequited, and because _that_ was probably when the seed had been planted.

and it was just _so_ unfair, because she had been  _so_ close to getting that weight off her chest.

it had caught her off guard so much, and it was the worst feeling she'd ever known, to have felt like she'd fooled herself so fully. 

so, standing in front of Becky, knowing she had nothing left to lose, but remembering that her pride was always there, meant that she kept her mouth shut. 

Becky's frustration grew. 

" _Charlotte,_ " she said, with a wobble to her chin and a waver to her voice. "look. i—i've really, truly tried to respect your privacy, because if you wanted me to know, you would've told me already, but—."

Becky's phone rang out, sharp and surprising, shrill and sudden.

Charlotte nearly jerked out of her skin.

there was  _always_ an interruption.

and part of her, a small part that was growing, was grateful for it that time, because she knew exactly where Becky was heading. she knew exactly what Becky was about to ask, and she _didn't know_ if she had it in her to not answer the question. simply because it was coming from Becky.

because Charlotte could duck and dodge and dive out of the way with anyone, with accuracy and poise, but not when it was Becky. never when it was Becky.

she had pride to lose, but if Becky asked for it, she'd hand it over to her. 

that was why she'd been so willing to go with the flow of not discussing any of it. because if Becky just asked, Charlotte would tell her. 

so, the phone acting as an impediment in their conversation was mildly welcome.

but then Charlotte watched the way Becky's face shifted when she looked at the screen, and she knew exactly who it was.

and it didn't feel as welcome then. because Charlotte was about as sick of him interrupting them and their moments as she was physically. he had such a natural knack for it. it was like he could sense when things were getting too serious, too close to territory that was significant, and he was just waiting on his cue to intrude.

it was such a frequent occurrence, and it happened every time, without fail. it had started on Becky's birthday, and it had continued from there. just like time, it continued. 

Charlotte was _sick_ of it. she tightened her jaw too fiercely, and the nerves of her nose cried out. 

she turned away as Becky pressed the accept button. she brought her hands to her hips, and she tried not to frown too hard.

that silent stirring was still alive within her. that want to scream out, to be heard by the one person she wanted to listen was making itself known.

it was trying to tell her to just forget her pride, because it was getting ridiculous. it was trying to tell her that it didn't matter if Becky asked anymore. she just needed Becky to listen. 

because if Becky just paused and _listened_ to the way Charlotte said her name, talked to her, talked about her, she would know.

but then Charlotte didn't want her to know just for the fear of losing her pride, did she? that was the whole point, wasn’t it?

Becky knowing would only serve to make them both feel even more miserable.

Becky knowing would only serve to make Becky feel _guilty_ , to have her walk down the aisle to the one she loved with the regret of not being able to change her feelings to save her best friend.

and Charlotte didn't want that.

that was the _whole point_.

(god, it was always such a back and forth, wasn't it?)

so, she didn't scream out. she tightened her grip on her hips, and she ground her teeth together. she thought about punching the wall, just to let out some of her brewing tension, but a broken hand was not something she wanted added to her list of ailments.

lovesick was enough as it was. the injured nose was the kicker.

"seriously?"

Charlotte turned just a little, to glance over her shoulder. she saw Becky, herself, turned slightly away, with the phone to her ear and her other fingers pressed against her forehead.

the vein at her left temple was pulsating just a little, and Charlotte almost reached to brush her thumb across it comfortingly, despite the distance between them, physical and metaphorical.

"and you're where?"

Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. an attempt at caging it all in.

her anger, her frustration, her sympathy, her love. all of it.

she wanted it to stay where it was. she hadn't ever been so close to having it boil over before.

supposedly as a result, her breathing was getting a little more labored. she could feel it. she tried to conceal it, but she knew if Becky zeroed in on her again, it'd be noticeable.

so it was lucky, or unlucky depending, that when Becky sighed out a hard, "ok, i'll be there in a bit," and hung up the phone, she was distracted enough to not hone in on Charlotte's deeper inhales.

she wiped her hand across her face, and Charlotte thought she looked tired, like she hadn't slept in weeks, since before the week they’d spent together.

“i—i have to go pick him up," was the explanation. "his car broke down on the interstate.”

and, normally, Charlotte would have nodded. she would have said it was fine and moved along.

normally, Charlotte would have tried really hard to not feel like the second choice.

normally, Charlotte would have kept her displeasure off her face.

but they were well out of the range of normally, so she didn't. because Becky might've been tired, but Charlotte was  _exhausted._

"he couldn't call anyone else?"

and she knew she was being unfair. she knew she was being selfish. she knew she didn't have a right to feel like the second choice.

and that's why she'd always tried really hard to not do so.

 _he_ was supposed to be Becky's first choice.  _he_ was the person Becky was going to spend her life with.  _he_ was the person Becky had given her heart to.

even with the day’s events, their ties weren’t completely severed. Charlotte knew that.

he was still supposed to be Becky’s first choice, and Charlotte  _knew that_.

but it got so  _hard_. to remind herself that she didn't have a right to take up Becky's time, even when she'd devoted so much of hers to Becky.

it got so hard, to remind herself that she wasn't a choice to begin with, so she couldn't even be a second one.

it got so hard.

Becky didn't truly owe her anything, and she knew that. Becky had been giving her so much of her time, when she didn't have to, and Charlotte knew that.

but it just got hard.

and Charlotte was only human.

humans were made to fail, just as well as they were made to succeed. and Charlotte had succeeded in trying for so long, that she was bound to fail.

so, she  _was_ failing, right in that moment.

she couldn't keep it out of her voice, off her face. she failed to make her mask stay, for the first time in a long time.

"i'm sure he could have, yes,” Becky sighed again, still sounding so worn down and weary. “but I'm still his—."

"yeah," Charlotte had to cut in; she knew that if the final word was uttered, it would have cut deep into her skin and stayed there. "yeah."

she nodded and then dragged her hand over her features like Becky had just a moment before.

then she shook her head instead, like she was shaking herself out of the brief funk. or, at least, she was trying to. always trying to.

"sorry," she mumbled, refusing to look up, refusing to meet Becky's gaze. "just, um, be careful, i guess."

she knew Becky nodded too, and she knew it was a jerky motion, not well-oiled or as natural as usual.

“yeah," was the response, soft and slightly thick with residual emotion. "okay.”

"okay."

Becky seemed to flinch then, out of the corner of Charlotte's eye, but it wasn’t due to any sharp feeling in Charlotte’s voice. it was the exact opposite. Charlotte had gone completely impassive. she was suddenly drained.

and neither of them wanted to leave things between them as they were, but Becky had to go. it was time sensitive, and Charlotte hadn’t the ability to sweep it all under the rug so quickly. she kind of just wanted a reprieve from all of the repression she'd been doing.

so, she didn’t try to take that impassivity out of her expression.

when Becky said, “look, Char—.”

Charlotte cut in again, quiet and resigned, “just go, Becky. it’s fine.” she walked back towards her bed and climbed in once more, where the sheets had gone cold and felt unwelcoming. “we can talk later if you want. i promise."

but she still didn't look, as Becky stayed in her spot, though she wanted to. there was a buzzing sort of quiet that had settled in, heavy and filled with too much that needed to be said and felt, and she didn’t know if looking at Becky would make it worse or not. she wasn’t brave enough to find out.

so they stayed stuck in that limbo, for an indeterminable amount of time, for probably about thirty seconds.

Becky had to go, and yet her feet didn’t move. neither did her eyes; Charlotte could feel them on the side of her face just as well as she could feel her flowers stretching themselves out within the breeze of her lungs.

she coughed weakly, as one fluttered more fully, and that was what prompted Becky to speak again.

“this is what my dream felt like.”

and her words came out hushed and hurting, haunted in a way Charlotte couldn’t understand herself but wanted to soothe.

her gaze finally traveled over, simply because she couldn’t stop it.

Becky’s throat bobbed, with emotion.

“Charlotte, i—.” she seemed to catch herself and pull whatever was on her tongue back. it took her a second to find a replacement. “when i told you that you're the best thing i’ve got, i wasn’t lying.” her eyes dropped. she was getting caught up in her own thoughts. “i’m sorry for getting so… so aggressive, i guess, but i just—i can’t  _lose you._ i haven’t—just the thought of it—.” she cut off with an inhale of an irregular rhythm. their gazes met again. “it keeps me up at night.”

Charlotte’s sympathy started to seep out of its designated spot again. that guilt came too.

“Becks—.”

“no, seriously, Charlotte. i lie there at night, scared that if i close my eyes, i won’t wake up in time if you need me. even when you're  _right_ next to me." Charlotte got back up again, but when she walked two steps forward and reached out, she couldn't fully close the distance; she didn't know what to do to help. her hands hung in the space between them for a moment, before falling helplessly to her sides. "i lie there, and, i know it's dumb, but i think that if i just stay awake, if i just keep the day going, then there won't be a new one that will come that you won't be in."

"Becky," Charlotte tried to whisper again, gentle and aching.

"i just—i can't remember what it was  _like_ before you, Charlotte. i mean, you've been with me for so long, and you're—you're all there  _is_ for me. so i can't remember what it was like before you, but i don't want to."

Becky paused. her jaw ticked, and, when she continued, she was quieter.

"and i sure as hell don't want to know what it's like  _after you._ "

she drew in a ragged breath then, like she'd finally figured out how to take up the difficulty Charlotte had in breathing for herself.

"god, i—." her voice trembled and trailed off. "if i could take your place? or—or if i could cut the flowers out myself, without taking your memories and your emotions? i  _would_. in a heartbeat. without hesitation. with any sacrifice. but i can't." the admittance was a sore spot for her, Charlotte could tell; it made her wonder how many times Becky had thought about how helpless she felt. "the only way you can be cured, and remain yourself, is to have your love returned, and—and  _before_ —hell, even earlier  _today—_ i thought there was nothing i could do about that either." their eyes connected, held one another in place, and Charlotte's knees felt weak. "but he said something right before you got hurt, and i haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

Becky did start moving then, but it wasn't to leave. it was to pace once more, to demonstrate how trapped within herself she felt, how conflicted she was.

Charlotte was lightheaded. her adrenaline was pooling in her stomach, pulsing in her ears.

she knew exactly what he had said, what he had been about to finish saying before she made it to him and cut him off.

_'you let people give and give and give you love.'_

Becky stopped pacing. she rubbed her fingertips into her forehead.

_'and what do we get in return? a broken promise of 'i do?''_

she looked to Charlotte with a newfound purpose, a settling of a resolve that had been resisting her hold on it for far too long.

Charlotte swallowed, but it felt like it wouldn't go down all the way. it felt like something was sitting in her chest, blocking it.

_'a lungful of flowers.'_

Becky released a shaky exhale through her nose.

"Charlotte," she whispered, slow and cautious, trying not to spook a wounded animal.

Charlotte took a half-step backwards, on instinct, but she couldn't go any further. her balance felt off. the world felt like it was tilting. and there was  _something_ too solid sitting in her chest.

she didn't want what was coming next. 

but hadn't she learned?

“is—is it me—?”

there was always an interruption.

Charlotte’s cough then was jarring and abrupt; it stopped Becky right in her tracks.

it was the sharpest one Charlotte had ever known.  

it was more physical, somehow, than the others she'd experienced before. it stabbed right underneath where her third rib met her sternum, and it surprised her too seriously to allow her to play it off casually, resulting in an involuntary lifting of her hand to cover the area.

her shoulders rounded in, and her fingers splayed out and pressed down on the bones of her chest like they could absorb some of the pain through their tips, like they could diffuse some of the concentration that was bringing stinging tears to her eyes.

"Charlotte?"

Becky was closer then, right before her, but Charlotte could only focus on the sensation in her chest, the harsh and jagged hurt that had come from nowhere.

that something that was sitting before had finally stood up.

she gasped a little.

"Charlotte, look at me. what's the matter?"

Charlotte shook her head. she reached out with one hand and placed it on Becky's forearm, which offered a supportive strength that she was lacking. fingers curled around each of her own arms in turn, before the bends of her elbows; they tried to ground her.

her left knee gave out as another cough convulsed through her.

Becky dropped with her, but she kept her from hitting the floor.

Charlotte finally managed to look up.

"something's not right."

_\---_

_and, oh, please don't go._

_please don't go and leave me alone._

_\---_

“what—?”

“call—.” the first petal stuck to the roof of her mouth. she had to scrape it off with her fingernails. “call someone.”

Becky reached for her phone in her back pocket with trembling fingers. her eyes were wide and teary, and the usual composure she managed to hold onto during stressful situations seemed to be slipping from her grasp just as she tightened her hold on Charlotte.

another forceful shudder rocked through Charlotte’s frame, and she leaned forward more. she rested her forehead on Becky’s shoulder; her strength felt like it was fading, and it was definitely fading too fast.

it was there one second, gone the next.

a whimper stuck itself at the back of her throat. whatever was hurting her had firmly latched on, dug in deep. it was burrowing itself in further with each breath.

Becky’s free hand came up to rest against the nape of her neck.

“it hurts.”

“okay, Charlie. i know it does. you’re alright. you’re gonna be okay. just try to breathe as best as you can, love. alright? you got it.” there was a split second of a pause, and then Becky’s words weren’t directed at Charlotte but into her phone instead. “Bay. Bayley, come upstairs. tell Sasha to start the car. we need to get to the hospital.”

Charlotte’s lightheadedness from before had morphed and mutated by that point into the form of blackness around the edges of her vision, into spots dancing across the sight of her eyes.

her breathing was still labored, but it had worsened. she needed to lie down.

“Charlotte, we gotta get you downstairs. can you walk at all?”

Charlotte tried to nod, but it wasn’t just her strength that was fading. her consciousness was trying to follow suit. she blinked sluggishly as she pulled her head back, and Becky recognized it.

“hey.” Becky’s hands came up to Charlotte’s face then. they lifted her chin so that what was left of her visual awareness was entirely focused on those same teary eyes before her. “hey, hang on for me, Charlotte. we’re gonna get you help okay. just hang on. stay awake.”

“it hurts,” Charlotte said again.

“i know, darling heart. i know.”

the sound of the door opening again was barely registered for Charlotte, as she started to cough more fully than before—the familiar segue into a fit.

Becky’s hands slipped from her face, and Charlotte managed to turn her upper body away some. she supported herself with her fists to the floor, but when a sob mixed itself in with the rest of the air stuttering from her lungs, she dropped to her forearms.

“Bayley, come on, we’ve got to get her—.”

Charlotte’s head throbbed, right in the middle of the space above her eyes, and with each new cough and gag, gasp and grunt, it got worse.

more petals started coming, more than she had expected, more than she’d ever seen. seconds continued to slip by, and, yet, the petals felt never-ending and infinite. everything else could be gone, and they would still be there, it seemed. they were always there, lingering and looming, and they had been waiting for their cue, just like him.

they fell across her arms, over the floor. they stuck to her skin and made her their own.

she blinked down at them, through her tears, just as she’d done every time. (from start to finish, she’d kept the routine the same, and it was, at least, a constant she could appreciate.)

they were pastel purple, soft and pleasant-looking, cruel in the way they contrasted how she felt.

they were the ones that had sprouted up all day.

and they belonged to the Cyclamen Flower. they meant:  _resignation and goodbye_.

and for once it didn’t feel fitting. it didn’t sound right.

Charlotte didn’t want to be resigned. she didn’t want to stop fighting. she didn’t want to say goodbye.

it was too soon. it was when they were  _so_ close.

a sob tore its way through her clogged esophagus. her next exhale was a wheeze; it rattled around within her.

“ _Charlotte_ ,” came the urgent utterance, almost muffled, trying to pull her back from where she was drifting away. “hey, look at me.”

she couldn’t focus on the voice any further, through the ringing in her ears.

“i’m sorry,” she managed to choke out, reaching blindly for the people at her sides. “‘m sorry.”

it felt like all of the oxygen had evaporated. there was none left, not for her. her flowers had used it all up.

the roots were taking over, spreading through her body by way of her veins, creeping to the tips of her fingers and toes.

she couldn’t fight them any longer. nothing was meant to last forever, but they somehow would, within her.

just as her vision went black, one last, “Charlotte!” broke through the veil.

it followed her into the darkness. it latched onto her and wouldn’t let her go.

it was the only thing that kept her from fully leaving.

\---

_don't wanna give my heart to someone new._

_won't be anybody after you._

_and even if one day our time is through,_

_won't be anybody after you, after you._

_i'll never find another lover after you._


	8. helplessly praying the light isn't fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Hold On" by Chord Overstreet.

_hold on, i still want you._

\---

when her alarm clock went off, she was already awake.

she had been for hours. she had been for days. she had been for weeks. for every single second that had passed since things completely collapsed around her, it felt like she'd been awake.

she honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd solidly shut her eyes, and that was because she knew for certain that solidly shutting her eyes—shutting her eyes for more than a blink—was not an option.

she _couldn’t_ shut her eyes, because the darkness the action created was too good of a backdrop for her memories to play out against.

it let all of her fears run rampant. it made reality feel worse.

the way Charlotte’s face had shifted, right before that first cough, was too vivid. the color the petals had held was too vibrant. 

everything was too sharp and defined, and she couldn't let it take over. not at all. not for a second.

she could not shut her eyes.

or, at least, she told herself she couldn't.

truthfully, it probably wouldn't have made a difference, whether her eyes were open or not.

truthfully, it was really just a last-ditch effort to push it all way, just far enough to not be suffocated by it.

truthfully, it was her final line of defense, and, truthfully, it was failing.

because even with her eyes open, it all still felt so present.

the ache of her hands, that she'd gained as Charlotte’s face slipped out of them, was still smarting sharply. the panic outlining her nerves, that had come to fruition at the sound of Charlotte’s coughs, was still heavily inked in and irreversible.

and the last, “i'm sorry,” that Charlotte had murmured? it was all she could hear.

the rest may have all been a blur since that night—all the movement and motion of atoms colliding may have been lost on her—but those last two words had sent a ringing through Becky’s ears that had yet to dissipate.

it was the most present thing.

it blocked out all other noise.

people had been trying to talk to her, at the hospital, but all she could see was their lips moving, forming words and letters that had no meaning.

her own movements were all empty, motor, made out of reflex and well-worn routines.

she hadn't made an active decision since she'd helped lift Charlotte up off of the floor, so she really couldn't remember what it felt like to be conscious.

it was like when she woke up after that night—the fifth night and the sixth morning—she didn't really wake up at all. she was still in the nightmare. she was living it in real time.

the only thing that made it reality, that made it different, was the fact that Charlotte had _been there_. at least, at first, she had been there.

because in Becky's dream, Charlotte hadn’t been there. she’d just been a voice, calling out in the dark for Becky to just come to her, find her, _help her_.

and Becky had wanted to; she had tried. she had run around in the empty space and shouted until her voice was gone, that she was trying to help but couldn’t figure out a way to get to Charlotte— _truly_ get to her.

all her steps had been staggered and sluggish, like something was holding her back, keeping her away. every blink of her eyes had been strained and her vision had been fuzzy, like a veil needed to be lifted.

she couldn't see, and the impairment had started to last for so long that she was beginning to be convinced it was her new state of being.

and when some semblance of light did _finally_ come to prove her wrong—to show she wasn't completely blind, only blind where it counted—it did the opposite of helping her. it hindered her, hurt her legs and made them incapable of use even further.

because Charlotte was then in her line of sight, but she still wasn’t _there_. her eyes were closed. her skin was pale. her chest wasn’t rising and falling with the intake of air. she was surrounded by—laid in a bed of—those same goddamn petals Becky had been seeing for the entirety of the week they'd spent together.

it became clear, immediately, that Becky hadn't made it in time.

Charlotte had needed her, and she hadn't made it in time.

she was too late.

she couldn't breathe.

she couldn't think.

and when she'd reached out to take Charlotte in her arms, the entire scene had disintegrated and dissipated around her, leaving her lost and alone.

she'd shot up in her bed in that same sensation of darkness, with that same useless feeling in her legs, with the most disorientation a human could possibly feel, and she'd sobbed to herself.

awareness had started to come back to her slowly, and when she remembered that she had three guests in her house, she'd tried to keep as quiet as possible. she'd tried to calm herself down.

but the sheer devastation reverberating in all of the deepest crevices and cracks of her bones reduced her to nothing but the most basic of beings: a creature shrouded in true, unadulterated vulnerability under the forces of nature and whatever other powers happened to lie above.

she was shaking, and she was still seeing Charlotte lying there—motionless, expressionless—and she couldn't calm herself down.

she couldn't take being alone, with the phantom feeling of loss lingering in her core, so she stumbled down the hall, to Charlotte's room, to her source of comfort.

when she'd asked if Charlotte was awake, she'd leveled her voice out just enough to not raise alarms, and when she heard Charlotte's call back to her, not in the helpless way from before, she knew she wasn't still in her nightmare.

when she walked forward and saw Charlotte sitting upright in her bed, not lying flat among flowers, she knew she wasn't still in her nightmare.

when Charlotte greeted her with a casual, "hey," Becky had let out a quivering breath, and then before Charlotte could finish her question, in that suddenly worried tone, Becky had asked if Charlotte could do her a favor.

and, god, it had felt so _selfish_ , especially when Charlotte started to move without question, with the darkening bruising around her nose and eyes, but it proved to Becky that she wasn't still in her nightmare.

because Charlotte was _there._ she _had been_ there.

Charlotte had held her. Charlotte had comforted her. Charlotte had told her it was alright, and she had said they were there, together.

she had told Becky that she wasn't too late, and Becky had clung onto her like she would crack apart if she didn’t.

she had tried to press against Charlotte like maybe she could transfer every spare ounce of her life source to the woman if she just tried hard enough.

and when she'd realized that that method wasn't working, she had let all of her fears spill out, because they had been eating away at her ever since she'd watched Charlotte run backstage during that pay-per-view, ever since she saw the pile of petals in gorilla, ever since someone told her the direction Bayley had led Charlotte in, ever since she found out.

she had let all of her fears spill out, and Charlotte had still told her it was alright. she had still said that they were there, _together_.

but it was a lie, and, though it was told unintentionally, it was incredibly effective: a usurper of all of Becky’s strength and stability.

because she _was_ too late. she was too slow on the uptake, too careless with what she cared for.

she was there _physically_. she had her hands, and she had them holding onto Charlotte, but she hadn’t been holding tight enough, she hadn’t been holding in the right way.

and then she had let go, to spill those fears freely, and it was for too long.

Charlotte had slipped through her fingers. she'd drifted away.

so, Becky's nightmare might have ended when she'd opened her eyes on that fifth night, but reality saw it, acknowledged it, and vowed to do better.

and that's why Becky couldn't and wouldn't shut her eyes. she was too scared to go back to sleep.

she was too scared that her mind would turn it into a true competition, would take all her fears and her forms of resistance to them and twist them into images that would rock her to her core.

it was two weeks after that night—the fifth night and the sixth morning—and, as she got out of bed, she blinked, not sleep but sorrow from her eyes.

she hadn't slept, but she still wasn't awake.

she was hanging on by a thread.

but no one could see it. no one could know.

everyone knew, but that wasn’t the point.

(except it was entirely the point.)

\---

getting ready didn't take long. it never did anymore. appearance felt trivial when she was unsure if the one person she wanted to see her would open their eyes again.

still, though, her reflection knocked on the glass. it pleaded with her to take care of herself. it got stern and pointed at the dark circles under her eyes, the sudden sharpness of her cheekbones. it said she wouldn't be of any good if she let her health deteriorate too.

but that ringing in her ears drowned it all out.

she kept hearing, "i’m sorry.”

and she turned away without a problem.

\---

the hospital always smelled the same. the air always burned her nostrils.

her shoes made the same squeaking sounds against the linoleum each time too, and she wasn't sure if she liked that consistency or not.

the lights felt too bright, but, of course, she couldn’t shut her eyes, because she saw the way Charlotte’s face shifted, before the first cough. she saw the color of the petals instead, and that was worse.

so, she kept them open.

but, then, that seemed like the wrong decision too, somehow, when she registered the look on Sasha's face that formed upon her approach in the hall.

"Becks—," Sasha locked her phone from where she'd been typing on it, "—you were supposed stay home for at least twelve hours. you need to _sleep_."

"couldn't." Sasha started to let out a sigh, but Becky's utterance of, "i told you i sleep better near her," cut it short.

she bit her tongue then, visibly, but Becky didn't focus on the action; she didn't focus on the restraint Sasha seemed to always keep in place around her.

she knew what it was for. she had discovered too late.

"i'll stay. you can go get some rest, Sash."

she didn't let her gaze come up to meet the one on her. she couldn't.

but she lingered at the edge of the door frame for a second—at room 408: Charlotte's room—because she hated going in just as much as she hated leaving.

its air always burned her nostrils, the lights always burned her eyes, her shoes never stopped making the same squeaking noise against the silence.

and Charlotte laid still among it all. the least changed of all of it.

she didn't look fragile, particularly, but she was definitely pale. her nose and eyes were still bruised from the blow she'd taken, and it stood out starkly against the white of her skin, despite its relative fading over time.

the tube in her throat, helping her breathe, moving her chest, keeping her with them, was obtrusive, out of place. Becky hated it just as much as she appreciated it for doing its job.

because there was something horribly unsettling about seeing Charlotte incapacitated as she was, fighting for her life so silently and in such solitude.

it made Becky's chest ache.

it made her feel sick with guilt, and she had to swallow it down harshly as she left Sasha in the hall and finally found some of the bravery it always took to walk into the room and stay there.

what she saw, though, made the usual ache feel amplified, increased tenfold.

silhouetted against the sunlight coming in through the close-together cracks of the blinds on the far wall, Bayley was sitting with her back to the door, on Charlotte's left-hand side.

within seconds, Becky could tell she was asleep, hunched over and resting against the free space of the mattress by Charlotte's leg. she could also tell that she was holding Charlotte's hand.

it was a position Becky herself had been in almost every day for the two weeks previous, but, somehow, watching someone else take up the space stung worse.

it put into perspective how sad it all was, how sad they _all_ were, as if she hadn't already known.

she swallowed thickly, with a throbbing of her throat. she tried to make those steps of hers light, less squeaky, because she knew Bayley was struggling too. Bayley had been there for the last “i’m sorry,” too.

Bayley had been the other hand Charlotte had reached for before she'd blacked out from the pain, from the lack of oxygen.

from a thorn that had grown and developed and dug into the inside of her lung: a side effect none of them had even known could arise.

"you're lucky you got her here when you did," the doctor had told them, after hours of waiting and pacing and feeling inconsolable. "the bleeding would've worsened within minutes."

Sasha had sat down because her legs were shaking too violently. Bayley had went over to be next to her, but she looked too numb to really have thought the action through. Becky herself had had to hold onto her restraint to keep from shouting, screaming, punching a wall in frustration.

because they _should've_ gone to the hospital on the fourth day, when Charlotte was struggling more severely than Becky had ever seen before. they _should've_ gone, and then the thorn would've been detected, and something could’ve been done about it.

they should’ve gone, but they _didn't_.

because Charlotte had looked at her, soft and pleading and in the way she knew Becky couldn't resist, and she had told her she really didn't want to go. she had told her that there had been bad days before—bad days Becky hadn't been there for—and she had promised that it would be alright in the morning.

and, usually, Charlotte was right. usually, when Charlotte promised, it held true.

(Becky hadn’t ever known Charlotte to be one to break a promise.)

but they were out of the realm of 'usually,' and when things had fallen apart the next morning, the next day, the next night, that was proven.

because, then, it had all tumbled downhill, toppled sideways, careened off the precarious perch of their cliff, and Becky hadn't been able to catch it in time.

she hadn't even been able to catch _Charlotte_ in time.

and that hurt the worst.

she hadn't been able to catch Charlotte. after she'd promised, for years, that she would always do just that, she hadn't caught Charlotte.

she hadn't caught Charlotte, and she had figured it out too late.

so, it was a waiting game they were stuck in.

a cruel, torturous waiting game to see if Charlotte stirred, spoke, did anything to indicate that she was still with them.

and Becky had never been the most patient of people, but, for Charlotte, she'd wait forever. she knew that better than she knew the alphabet, better than she knew how to hit the mat, better than she knew how to say her name.

it had gotten lost, somewhere in the logic she'd thought she'd found in getting together with him, but it was back, and if the universe decided to let her atone for the sins she'd committed against her love, then she would never lose it again.

she vowed she wouldn't.

she just needed the second chance.

and, maybe, she didn't deserve it. maybe, her lack of patience in waiting—maybe her giving up on the long game, her giving up on Charlotte and getting together with him because it had felt so hopeless—meant that she truly shouldn't have been allowed to receive that second chance.

but, even if she didn't deserve it, Charlotte did. Charlotte deserved everything good in the world, and she certainly didn't deserve what she was being put through, and Becky had been begging any powers that may have been up above to just let Charlotte have what she deserved.

because Becky might not have deserved a happy ending, in her eyes, but she knew Charlotte absolutely did. and if Charlotte did, and if Charlotte's happy ending so happened to be her best friend, then the universe would just have to get over itself and let it happen.

if Charlotte truly _had_ chosen her, if Charlotte woke up and accepted the words Becky had been choking on for centuries, then it didn’t matter if Becky didn’t deserve that happiness, because Charlotte did. and Becky would never dare be the cause to take it away again.

so, it was just a waiting game. to see if that chance would be given, if happy endings did exist.

and, yes, Becky hated waiting, but, for Charlotte, she'd wait forever.

which is why she carefully approached Bayley from behind, because Bayley and Sasha had been the ones at the hospital for the eight hours that Becky had been forced to go home, and they, too, needed rest that wasn't cramped and hunched over next to a hospital bed with their best friend in it.

Becky could wait by herself for a while.

"hey," she said quietly. "Bay."

Bayley stirred like she hadn't even been unconscious. she sat up quickly, blinking the blurriness from her eyes like she was hoping the room would shift and be something else.

Becky understood.

"hey," she said again, when Bayley's gaze went to Charlotte, to see her still lying in expressionless sleep. their eyes finally met after Bayley turned her head. "i told Sasha that you guys can go home and get some rest. i've got her."

Bayley looked back again, in a motion Becky and Sasha and a few others had performed themselves, like maybe Charlotte had woken up in the brief span of seconds it'd taken them to focus on something else.

the disappointment that came every time was just as devastating as the first. it never dissipated in its strength.

Becky could see the subtle deflation of Bayley's posture as it settled in. she reached out and placed her hand on the woman’s shoulder. she curled her fingers in comfortingly, and she was sorry that it was the best she could do.

Bayley sniffed some, and Becky felt a mild throbbing spark to life in her right temple, from the strain her jaw was holding, a strain that wouldn't seem to go away no matter how much she willed it to.

"you were supposed to stay home for longer," came the whispered response, a little choked up but trying to regain control.

"i know," Becky said. "couldn't sleep."

Bayley nodded.

"i know."

she let out a sigh then, and Becky waited until she stood to bring her in for a hug.

her eyes slid closed, as she rested her forehead against the top of Bayley's shoulder and buried her face in her shirt. she returned the embrace from under Bayley's arms, clasped her hands together in between Bayley's shoulder blades and pretty much clung on.

"the monitor still hasn't moved forward, which they say is good," Bayley muttered.

Becky swallowed.

"yeah. it is good."

good in contrast to the advancement of the line forward, yes, it was. bad in the context of what stagnancy meant in their situation.

because the monitor showed the progression of Charlotte's disease. it detected the maturity and the growth of the garden in her body, and it was supposed to move with every single development.

and it hadn't moved once since they'd first hooked Charlotte up to it after her emergency surgery two weeks prior.

which the doctors continued to say was _good_ , because it meant Charlotte's condition wasn't worsening.

but it also meant Charlotte wasn't getting better.

and, so, Becky hated the monitor just as much as she appreciated it for doing its job.

the little green line, stopped three-quarters of the way to the edge of the screen, was as much of a comfort as it was a curse.

Becky could never look at it for very long, so she shut her eyes until Bayley pulled back out of the hug.

"are you sure you don't need Sasha and i here right now? we got them to give us these weeks off for both you and Charlotte. i don't want you to be alone."

Becky smiled faintly, the first to form in a while.

"i'm sure," she nodded. "and i'm not alone. she may be asleep, but she's here." Bayley's gaze somehow got even more tender. "you go home and rest until tomorrow. i'll call you if anything happens."

Bayley waited a beat before softly saying, "okay."

she pulled Becky into a briefer hug, and then she turned and pressed a gentle kiss to Charlotte's forehead. she squeezed the hand that she had been holding before, and she looked over Charlotte's features for a moment.

Becky turned some, to make her attention not as acute.

"i'm going to go get the car while Sash comes in to say bye," Bayley said eventually.

"alright, Bay," Becky nodded again. "see you soon."

Bayley was able to flash a similar smile as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door, and as soon as she was gone, Becky sank down into the chair she had been occupying.

she took up that same position. she wrapped both of her hands around Charlotte's one, and she rubbed the pad of her thumb back and forth over Charlotte's thumb.

she let the silence settle for a bit, but it made the ringing in her ears too pronounced, so she started talking, quietly.

"i know you're probably sick of people holding your hand," she began with a mumble. "i would be, probably." she continued the motion of her thumb. she kept her grip firm. "i'm sorry i can't bring myself to not, though. guess i am a little selfish, after all." she scoffed lightly then, all through her nose and with a subtle rising of her shoulders. "more like a lot."

she jerkily lowered her chin down towards her chest, as hot and hurting tears sprung up into her eyes. her jaw ticked multiple times, in quick succession.

that tingling sensation in her nose stirred to life, like she might sneeze, like she was going to start crying for real. she sniffed forcefully.

she pressed her lips together firmly, in a flat line, as she tried to keep it all in, but, eventually, as she lifted her head once more, she had to draw in a near-gasp because her lungs felt too constricted.

she gazed over at Charlotte, through the sheen of sadness coating her eyes.

"i wish i knew if you could hear me or not, Charlie," she whispered, through the thickness in her throat. "i've been talking to you every day, and, yet, i don't even know if you can _hear me_. which, i mean, won't keep me from talking to you, but i just... wish you'd answer back." she shook her head faintly. "i didn't even know it was possible to miss someone's voice so much, but i suppose that's because i've never had to miss your voice quite as badly as i do right now. 'cause even when we were separated, on different brands, we still talked almost every day. as much as we could. so this... this radio silence is deafening."

it was definitely a big contributor to that ringing, at least.

it was definitely unbearable. to not hear Charlotte's voice. to not see her eyes. to not watch her move or shift or look alive.

it was definitely unbearable, to have to wonder if she ever would see any of it again.

it was the waiting, truly, that was just _so_ goddamn unbearable.

Becky was sure it was driving her mad.

it was driving her mad, and it was making her feel like there would never be another light in her life again, and she just wanted Charlotte to wake up.

if Charlotte would just wake up, Becky could finally do something worthwhile with her love.

she could give it fully, wholeheartedly, instead of stashing it away, shoving it into corners and under carpets within herself.

she would be late—eons late—but she would still have shown up.

she would be late, but it would be okay, because she had just gotten a little lost along the way, and she was sure Charlotte would understand. because, yes, she'd diverged from the path, but her destination had always been the same.

Charlotte had always been the one.

Becky just hadn't known that until recently.

because she had thought, for a long while, that she and Charlotte weren't meant to be. she had thought, for a long while—after waiting for years—not that Charlotte didn't love her, particularly, but that she _couldn't_ love her.

when Charlotte had said, time after time, that she was married to the job, that she didn't have time for dating, that there wasn't anyone out there she would ever be with, Becky was convinced that she and Charlotte weren't meant to be.

even though every nerve ending and tendon and muscle in her body felt like they were. even though Becky had been captivated and captured by Charlotte since the very first moment they'd met. even though Becky had been convinced for so long that they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together.

she eventually let Charlotte's insistence upon being married to the job, lacking the time for dating, not having anyone out there for her, wear her down.

because, she thought, she might have been Charlotte's since the very first moment they'd made contact—since she'd helped hoist Charlotte up to her feet in the PC—but that didn't mean Charlotte was hers.

if Charlotte didn't want to be hers, Becky couldn't make her be.

Becky couldn't make all the looks and touches and close to overflowing feelings mean something to Charlotte, if Charlotte didn't want them to.

Becky couldn't make Charlotte love her back, be in love with her, if Charlotte simply wasn't, or couldn't.

she had spent days, weeks, months, years waiting before. she had thought if she had patience, if she stayed by Charlotte's side and showed her that she was there and not going anywhere, Charlotte would change her tune about dating. she thought she would stop saying there was no one out there.

and there had been so many minutes and moments, on so many nights and days, that had made it seem like that shift was happening.

the way Charlotte said her name, looked at her, touched her so carefully, seemed so real and so ready to be something more.

sometimes Charlotte's eyes would linger on her for longer than normal. sometimes Charlotte's hands would curl into her hips too comfortably to be casual. sometimes Charlotte's tendency to seek Becky out before, during, and after anything felt too constant to mean something less than what Becky herself was drowning in.

but with every step forward, it felt like they took three steps back.

with every almost stumble across the line, Charlotte abruptly readjusted her course and steered away, and Becky eventually found it too difficult to keep having hope.

the routine kept repeating like a Saturday morning rerun: Becky would start to think they were finally on the right path, and then Charlotte would do something that abruptly reminded her they were just friends.

not to say Charlotte was doing it intentionally or cruelly, but, somehow, that made it worse. because she didn't even know the effect and influence she had over Becky, and it was near to devastating.

it had been devastating, on one particular instance, after one particular night.

a night that had made the readjustment feel final.

a night where they had decided to go out with some other friends in LA and had gotten a little too drunk. or Becky had gotten a little too drunk. Charlotte had gone a little further.

she had been well over the line of inebriated pretty early on, and Becky had decided to slow her own consumption of alcohol just so she could look out for anything that might come around to cause trouble.

it’d proved to be a good and bad decision.

good because it did, in fact, make her a little more alert. (admittedly, not by much.)

bad because it made her more alert than she _wanted_ to be, when she saw Charlotte start to dance with some guy that had been eyeing her all night—the same guy that had been glaring at Becky all night.

because she had, of course, been by Charlotte's side from the minute they walked through the door, simply due to the fact that that's how they always operated at clubs or parties or gatherings. and she had, of course, noticed almost immediately, the taller man sitting at the bar, raking his gaze up and down Charlotte's figure.

on instinct, as soon as she saw him, she'd taken a half-step closer, with a narrowing of her eyes. and she'd almost reached out to wrap an arm around Charlotte's waist, but then Charlotte had noticed her tension and taken her hand.

"already ready to go?" she'd asked, looking down and seeming even taller in her heels. "that's gotta be a new record."

"huh?" Becky had glanced up, her face going blank to try to cover up the irritation that had so swiftly set in. "oh. no, no, i'm—sorry. no. my mind's just a little all over the place. i'm good to stay."

Charlotte's eyebrows wrinkled some, as she tried to discern the underlying tension in Becky's tone. she tightened her grip on Becky's hand and led her over to a more secluded section of the club, kind of in a hall, kind of not.

"your mind's been all over the place for a while, Becks. are you alright?"

Becky nodded, with a noticeable swallow. Charlotte had just had to step closer as someone tried to get past her, and Becky could suddenly feel the warmth of her body in front of her, almost pressed against her but not quite.

"yeah, i'm... i'm doing okay, Charlie. i'm always okay if i'm with you, right?"

the softness of Charlotte's features was almost disconcerting, when set with the backdrop of the lights and the music and the noise of the people around them. but, somehow, it seemed right in place, as Becky focused on just the two of them there.

"yeah. of course," Charlotte had said quietly, before squeezing Becky's fingers. "but you can be not okay around me too. i'm here for the good and the bad. you know that, yeah?"

"yeah, babe. could never forget it."

Charlotte's lips quirked then, at the name, and she waited for a few more fractions of forever before nodding.

"alright. well, let's go get some drinks then. sound good?"

Becky couldn't keep her own smile off her face, when Charlotte fully intertwined their fingers.

"lead the way, lady."

she let Charlotte tug her along and guide her, because she'd follow Charlotte to the ends of the earth, without question. and that night was no different.

she could stray, maybe, but she'd always come back. Charlotte was the center of gravity, and Becky couldn't go far.

so, even as Becky separated for a few minutes, eventually, to go to the restroom, she came back.

but that was all it had taken for that same guy from before to swoop in, it seemed.

and, by that point, Charlotte was at that state of well past the line into inebriation.

Becky had seen it many times before, and she knew it wasn't a bad thing on its own.

in fact, she liked watching Charlotte let some of her tension seep from her shoulders. she liked watching Charlotte get freer in her actions and in the way she smiled.

in _fact_ , Charlotte's smile when she was drunk was in Becky's top twenty, because it was so shining and sure. it wasn't weighed down by anything that sober Charlotte ever felt.

so, no, Charlotte letting her hair down, so to speak, wasn't a bad thing on its own at all.

however, watching Charlotte do that with some guy that definitely did not have pure intentions? that was bad.

it had made Becky's stomach drop as soon as she made her way back.

as soon as she saw that smile, anywhere near to that guy, she’d wished she had asked Charlotte to leave at the beginning of the night.

she’d wished she'd kissed Charlotte right in that kind of, kind of not hallway.

she’d wished she could get a handle on her feelings, because it seemed like they were going to have to be constantly beaten back with the way things changed so quickly.

with how Charlotte could hold her hand and look at her like she was what mattered most, and then with how Charlotte could let someone else be almost as close to her as Becky had been before.

and Becky had known, in the moment, that she wasn't being fair in feeling bitter. Charlotte wasn't out there professing her love for the man. she was simply dancing, and he was dancing next to her, but they weren't exactly _together_.

(it was more like he had come along, and Charlotte just didn't care enough to tell him to get lost, Becky realized after longer observation.)

so Becky had also known, in that moment, that if she’d pushed her way through the crowd and went over to where Charlotte was, Charlotte's eyes would’ve lit up in the way that made her feel special. she would’ve reached out and tugged Becky closer, and _they_ would’ve danced together _._

but, for a single beat of the song that was playing, she thought about not doing that. she thought about sitting herself down at the bar and being the one to stare.

but then, she didn’t see the logic in that. she realized there was none.

she didn’t have to concede to some _stranger_.

she wouldn’t.

so, she did push her way through the crowd, without consistent coordination and bumping quite a few people. not that she particularly cared. because when Charlotte saw her, her eyes did light up like she'd predicted.

(his eyes also took on a change, darker and more dangerous, but she didn't really register it.)

she pulled Charlotte closer so she could speak into her ear, over the noise.

"wanna get some fresh air?"

Charlotte then pulled back some so that Becky could see her nod. someone behind her bumped them a little, and Charlotte had to reach out and steady herself. her hands landed on Becky's waist.

the air did start to feel thicker then.

Charlotte's tongue darted out to moisten her lips. her eyes darted down.

Becky swallowed.

"shall we go?"

another nod. Charlotte's hands lifted, but one slid down to take Becky's, like before.

this time, Becky was the one who led them, towards the back entrance, where a smaller patio with lights strung up and chairs spread out was deserted by other people.

she nearly gulped in a breath of relief at finally being free from the claustrophobia of the club.

her head still felt dizzy, though, from the drinks she'd consumed herself, and when she glanced over to Charlotte beside her, standing with her hair slightly messy and her cheeks lightly flushed, that dizziness only increased.

the lights around them created a faint glow, a calm aura that contrasted the pulsing of the music in the building, and it caught around the color of Charlotte's hair perfectly.

Becky's chest subtly shook. she'd wanted to say, "you look like an angel."

she'd never wanted to close the distance between them quite as badly as she had right in that moment, but she refrained, if only because Charlotte breathed out a, "thanks," that made her stop.

"what for?"

"guy was getting a lil too close. didn't wanna have to tell him no, 'cause i didn't think he'd take it well."

Becky nodded, without thinking about it much.

so, Charlotte _had_ noticed him there, even in her state, and she had wanted him gone.

Becky suddenly felt awful for even considering sitting it out at the bar.

Charlotte had never been one to find random strangers to have a good time with, even when drunk, and Becky knew that. jealousy was just a master manipulator of doubts, and combined with the alcohol, it could be vicious and volatile in spiking insecurities.

(liquid courage really felt like a scam.)

"of course," she said, intentionally ignoring the 'could've been,' in favor of where they were presently. "you know i've got you."

Charlotte smiled an easy smile. her eyes seemed to sparkle.

"yeah. you've got me."

Becky found herself with a forming grin then, but it was interrupted in its growth by the sound of the exit door opening once more. she glanced around Charlotte's shoulder to see that guy—speak of the devil—walking towards them, and she abruptly tugged Charlotte forward and stepped around her to stand between them.

her grin dropped. her jaw hardened.

liquid courage might've felt like a scam, but the dimming of her fear of consequences was surefire. (and, maybe, it was really the same thing.)

either way, she was not in the mood to be patient or precise in her interaction with him.

she raised her eyebrows challengingly.  

"is there somethin' i can help you with, buddy?"

he moved his eyes from where they'd been all night—on Charlotte—to her. he let a smile stretch his lips, but it was nowhere near as sincere as hers or Charlotte's had been just seconds before. he lifted his hands like he was trying to placate her.

"i come in peace," he said. "i just wanted to see if i could get your friend here's number. she left me on the dance floor too quick for me to ask."

he was back to looking at Charlotte, and Becky wasn't comfortable with that at all.

"yeah, there was a reason for that, man. she's not interested."

"there's no need to be so harsh, love," he tilted his head. "and why don't you let the lady speak for herself, yeah?"

Charlotte's fingers fastened around Becky's wrist, even as she stood at her back, pretty much pressed against her.

"she's right," she said, and Becky could tell she was trying to enunciate as best as she could. she could also feel the quickening beat of her heart. "i'm not interested. sorry. have a good night."

he glanced back to Becky, and then he glanced back and forth between them for a few moments.

"oh, i see." a smirk settled across his mouth. he directed his next words at Charlotte, over Becky's shoulder. "honey, i promise whatever she may offer you, i can easily top."

"excuse me?" Becky exclaimed, incredulously. Charlotte's grip on her tightened. "who the fuck do you think you are?"

"oh, struck a nerve, did i?"

"Becks, let's go," Charlotte whispered into her ear, as Becky jerked forward a little.

her syllables were still a little slippery, despite her efforts, reminding Becky that they really were not in an ideal situation should something happen. because Becky herself was intoxicated, and Charlotte was well past the point of being able to completely support herself for long periods of time, and, while they could totally take this man sober, it was uncertain while they weren't.

it was uncertain, and Becky knew she really would have hated for Charlotte to rip the red dress hugging her body. so, it wasn't something she wanted to risk.

she took in a stabilizing breath.

"look, man, she said she wasn't interested. so, if you wouldn't mind, we're going to go."

she pulled her arm back so she could guide Charlotte away with a light touch, and she intentionally kept herself in the middle as they started to walk around him.

but just as she turned her back completely, he moved swiftly enough to grab onto Charlotte's wrist and pull her to a halt, not violently but definitely not welcome.

"hey, i wasn't done talking to—."

the risk instantly felt worth it.

"hey!"

Becky grabbed his arm harshly and yanked him towards her. his grip on Charlotte disappeared from surprise alone, and he looked to Becky with wide, angry eyes.

"what do you think you're—?"

his words tumbled away from him with the snapping of his head to the side. a distinct pain came alive in the creases of Becky's knuckles upon impact with his jaw, but she ignored it easily.

he stumbled to the side, and Becky was relieved when Charlotte just managed to get out of the way of his path.

"you bitch!" he shouted, clutching at his face and readjusting his center of balance. "i'm gonna—."

"what's going on out here?"

he turned to meet the new voice, and Charlotte used his distraction to get closer to Becky, to look at her with eyes that were worried even under their haze.

"she just attacked me, man! can you believe that?"

Becky had met Jimmy's gaze and shrugged.

"yeah, I can," Jimmy had said then, without hesitation. "get out of here. leave these ladies alone, and feel lucky that your jaw is still intact, bro."

the man didn't seem to feel so confident any longer, with his supposed support having turned on him and his ego severely bruised.

he grumbled all the way to the door and back into the club.

Becky felt some of her tension dissipate as Charlotte's touch trailed across the backs of her shoulders.

"are you okay?"

"yeah. he didn't even touch me, Charlotte. are you?"

"yeah. 'm fine. can we go, though? i don’t feel so well.”

Becky nodded and muttered an, “of course,” before holding her hand out to guide Charlotte once more. she looked up as they walked forward. “thanks, Jimmy.”

“no problem, B. Naomi noticed him follow y’all out. you should probably stop by the bar and see if they’ll give you some ice for your hand.”

Becky just nodded again, not even feeling like fighting against treatment like she was usually liable to do.

the bartender smiled kindly at her as she approached alone—with Charlotte having gone to the booth that Naomi, Jimmy, and a few others had been occupying to grab her purse—but he was dealing with another customer, so she had to wait.

and as they had re-entered the building, Becky had sent a brief look to Jimmy, to try to convey that she'd wished for him to watch out for the guy, should he try to come back in Becky's absence once more. and, though Jimmy had seemed to understand, she just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible at that point, so she was impatiently tapping her foot against the floor until the bartender finally glanced her way.

"what can i get for ya, beautiful?"

"some ice. maybe wrapped in a towel." confusion wrinkled his brows, and she held up her hand. "for my knuckles."

"oh," he made the sound involuntarily. "yeah, of course."

he turned away immediately, and, soon, he was offering Becky a clump of ice concealed in a cloth towel.

"here you go."

"thank you kindly."

"how's the other guy look?"

Becky couldn't help the light smirk that came to play on her lips as she flexed her fingers a little and settled the ice atop where they were hurting almost monotonously.

"not as nice."

"i bet," came the response. "is he still around? do you need someone to walk you to your car?"

she looked up from where she'd been focusing on keeping the ice from falling. she saw him gazing with sincerity.

"oh, no thanks. i can't drive, and my best friend definitely can't. we're going to get a cab. but thanks, though."

"alright," he conceded without fight. "well, if you come back soon, and i'm working, the first drink can be on me. to try to make up for the trouble."

Becky smiled a little, warmed some by the offer, but then it widened for real as she felt a familiar presence behind her.

"sounds good," she said, just as an arm slung itself around her right shoulder and hooked a little across her chest. she shifted some, to try to glance back. "got your things, Charlie?"

"mm," Charlotte had hummed, leaning some of her weight off of Becky to allow her to straighten herself better.

that was when Becky noticed her eyes were slightly narrowed at the man before them, and she'd figured, in the moment, that the events that had just transpired had helped instill a momentary paranoia in Charlotte, towards interactions that had to do with men.

she slipped her arm around Charlotte's waist reassuringly and nodded at him.

"thanks again."

"no problem," he said, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, before shifting to Charlotte. he cleared his throat. "you have a good night."

"you too," Becky replied, already turning away and focusing on supporting Charlotte as they walked away.

the fresh air at the front sidewalk was just as refreshing as that of the back patio, and Becky, again, felt relieved upon its meeting with her lungs and skin.

"alright, let me call us a cab."

she tried to keep her arm around Charlotte as she pulled her phone from her back pocket, but the woman had other ideas and started to move away.

Becky was worried she was about to stumble and fall.

“woah, where ya goin?”

“nowhere.”

Charlotte had simply readjusted herself so that she had both of her arms around Becky’s neck from behind, still leaning against her for support. Becky rolled her eyes mildly; Charlotte tended to cling more when she was drunk.

it was just a good thing Becky was used to it. she shifted her feet some, to make sure she was sturdy enough, and then she lifted her hand to rest against Charlotte’s forearm—half to keep Charlotte in place, half because she knew Charlotte would want the contact.

the wait for the cab to arrive and the cab ride itself was spent in a comfortable quiet.

both Becky and Charlotte were almost lulled to sleep even, with their heads resting together, but then the driver hit the brakes a little harshly as they stopped outside of Becky's house and ruined the peace.

Becky glared as she handed him the money, but her gaze turned gentle as she looked to Charlotte rubbing sleepily at one of her eyes. every fiber of her being swelled with fondness.

"come on, let's get inside."

she'd helped Charlotte out of the vehicle with minimal stumbling, and she'd managed to open the door with minimal struggle as well.

getting up the stairs, to the guest room, was a little bit more of a hassle with Charlotte's heels, but they got there eventually. and, like many times before, Charlotte sat down on the edge of the bed, and Becky knelt in front of her so that she could undo the ties around her ankles.

her fingers were a little more prone to fumbling this time, though, and it was taking her a little longer than the majority of those other instances. her tongue came to poke out in concentration after the first shoe was already off and at her side.

Charlotte let out a giggle when her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

Becky looked up, like she'd been broken out of a trance. she blinked the focus out of her eyes and then narrowed them at Charlotte's amused grin.

"oh, is my struggle entertainin' you, lass?"

"yeah."

Charlotte laughed again, lightly, and Becky tried to keep her playful glower on her face despite the sound of it, but she failed.

she chuckled too.

"well, look, my knuckles are starting to bruise, so cut me a little slack, please. i'll get it, eventually."

she looked back down to the task at hand. a few more moments passed, and then she got the last knot undone.

"finally!" she exclaimed, slipping the heel off of Charlotte's foot and placing it next to its partner by her leg. "geez, lass, next time don't tie the knots so tight." she looked up to see Charlotte's stare far off and focused on the wall behind her, completely zoned out. she instantly softened. "alright, Charlie. time for bed. come on."

she patted Charlotte's calf beside her to get the woman's attention, and when she got it she raised her eyebrows.

"you can get changed on your own, yeah?"

"yeah," Charlotte mumbled, moving to stand.

"alright. i'll be right back."

"mkay."

Becky went about doing a simplified version of her nightly routine, nothing much more than changing and brushing her teeth. she ran down to the kitchen to grab them both glasses of water too, but all in all, it didn't take more than fifteen minutes for her to be walking back to Charlotte's room.

however, when she got through the door, she saw that she was still somehow beaten to the punch, as Charlotte was already lying in bed, with the covers up and over her chest.

she tilted her head and felt more of that earlier, familiar, fondness flow through her.

"here, Charlie," she said quietly, as she placed one of the cups on the nightstand. "you should drink this to try to head off the hangover."

"okay," Charlotte responded, but it was a faint utterance, and Becky could tell there was no commitment in it. "i will."

"alright," she replied, with a muted smile. "get some sleep."

she was only able to turn halfway before, "wait," made her pause. she'd glanced back over her shoulder to see Charlotte sitting herself up slightly and gesturing with one hand for her to come closer. "c'mere."

Becky's feet complied before her mind even directed them to. she reached out to take the hand Charlotte had extended towards her.

"no, give me the other one."

Becky's forehead creased with confusion, but she still switched arms as instructed.

her fingers settled flat against Charlotte's own, and then she watched as Charlotte carefully used the pad of her thumb to brush a featherlight touch over the darkening skin of her knuckles.

every single cell of Becky's that Charlotte touched felt like it came alive with a delicate electricity, crackling under the caress. there was something very loving about the way Charlotte was looking at the bruising, and Becky's throat felt a little full noticing it.

"look a little swollen," were the first words Charlotte eventually spoke, after they'd fallen into silence for a while. "maybe you should get more ice."

"nah," Becky muttered. "they'll be fine by morning. they don't even hurt really anymore."

and that had been a little bit of a lie, but Becky was already recognizing the way Charlotte's concern was attempting to become more concrete, and she didn't want to let it happen.

so, she purposefully made her expression smoothed and free of any wrinkles, anything that could be perceived as a warning to worry about.

"i promise, they're good, love," she said, when an answer didn't come. "everything's good."

"you're good?"

Charlotte finally tore her attention off of Becky's injury, to meet Becky's eyes, to look for any indication of lies.

"yeah. i'm good. i told you he didn't even touch me, Charlotte."

"i know," Charlotte responded almost immediately. "i just—i was worried he would, and that you'd get hurt, and it'd be because you were trying to defend _me_ , and if—."

"hey," Becky interrupted as gently as possible. "breathe, Char. it's fine. nothing like that happened. everything is alright."

"i know," Charlotte said again, looking back down to their hands and getting quieter. "i know."

Becky had waited a few seconds, to see if other words would come, and when they didn't, she let some of those wrinkles come back. they formed around her mouth with her frown.

"Charlie, what's on your mind, love? we're both fine." a beat. " _i'm_ fine."

"yeah," Charlotte agreed, but, like earlier with the water, it was absent-minded, and so was the nod that came with it. "will you stay in here tonight?"

Becky herself was starting to become concerned, so she nodded easily. but even if nothing was wrong, she still would have made her way around the bed as she did then. because she'd stay with Charlotte any time and any place, as long as Charlotte wanted her there.  

so, she'd laid down just as Charlotte did, but she didn't realize how closely she had been scooting in towards the center of the mattress until they were suddenly face to face.

then, she froze on instinct and hoped that the spike in her heart rate wasn't detectable amongst the ambient noise of the nighttime around them.

she didn't think it was. because Charlotte still seemed caught up in the corners of her mind.

as she watched her, Becky had wanted to lay her palm against Charlotte's cheek. she had wanted to call to her, as her eyelids slid shut. she had wanted to keep her there, in the present, with her.

because she knew how Charlotte could start to overthink, over-wonder. she knew how Charlotte could potentially spiral in her doubts and what she perceived as danger, and she wanted to show her that there was nothing in that moment for either of them to be fearful of.

(even if that meant she needed to show herself too.)

"hey," she whispered carefully. "Charlotte, what's the matter?" Charlotte didn't answer. "where you at, love?"

there was the sound of an inhale, and then Becky heard the wind whistling lightly through the crack left open in the window. 

she waited for approximately ten more seconds. 

"'m here," eventually came the murmur. and then: "'m sorry. my brain is just bein' irritating."

"irritating how?" Becky asked, without judgment, only gently pushing.

"just... telling me to do things it wouldn't if i was sober."

the abrupt thudding of her heart in her throat had Becky's fingers nearly shaking. her knees felt weak, and they weren't even supporting her weight. it was like her body was picking up on signals and messages that her mind couldn't actually comprehend.

"things like what?" was barely audible for her own ears.

Charlotte's eyes finally blinked themselves open. they met Becky's own, still settled on her so undividedly, and then they searched Becky's features.

she tugged at her bottom lip a little with the edge of her teeth.

"if i tell you, will you promise not to freak out?"

"promise," Becky said without hesitation. "with my pinky. finger and toe."

Charlotte was biting her lip again by the time Becky finished her statement.

Becky saw, out of the corner of her eye, the reflection of a car going by in the street, but she didn't take her immediate focus off of Charlotte.

she couldn't possibly have focused on anything else, especially when, suddenly, almost without warning, Charlotte was lessening the distance between them.

the shock that had shuddered through her as their lips met was ten times more paralyzing than that of when she'd noticed how close they were just a minute before.

the way that her breath had snagged against the inside of her ribcage was a sensation unlike any she'd ever known.

the kiss was over even quicker than it had begun, it felt like, and Becky hadn't even come close to reciprocating or returning it in her surprise.

and as she tried to fix the short-circuiting of her systems, Charlotte was watching. her gaze seemed far more sober, in that second, than it actually was, or had been all night.

"are you freaking out?" she'd asked, in a voice almost too hushed to be heard.

Becky's response of "no," was automatic and only partially believable.

"are you lying?"

this time it took longer for her to utter, "no," but, when she did, she meant it. "what—what was that for?"

"told you. my brain's been telling me to do that all night."

"what made you follow through?"

"no type of courage like liquid courage." a weak shrug. "also figured if it ended bad, we wouldn't remember in the morning anyway."

and, well, that was reasoning Becky hadn't been able to find much fault in.

(maybe liquid courage did do some good, after all.)

at this point, their faces were only centimeters—micrometers, a minuscule motion—apart. Charlotte hadn't pulled back nearly as far as she'd leaned in, and they'd been speaking almost directly into each other's mouths.

and, at Charlotte's words, Becky had felt like holding her breath. she pretty much did. 

with the initial sensation of awe dimming just enough into faint wonderment, she couldn't stop looking at the lips that had just been pressed to hers. she couldn't help but want to feel them pressed to hers again.

so, she'd tried to strengthen that resolve she'd had, of showing both of them there was nothing to fear. her eyes had flitted up, and her eyelashes had fluttered, just for a moment, before she'd gently nudged her nose sideways into Charlotte's own.

a soft puff of an exhale hit her mouth as a result, and it made a slow shiver roll down her spine.

carefully, she’d reached out, for Charlotte's hand that was lying between them, and, carefully, she’d entwined their fingers together, loosely enough to have her thumb still free; she used it to brush a delicate touch across the skin of Charlotte's inner wrist.

Charlotte shivered then too, subtly.

"Becks," she breathed out, still so close. "please kiss me."

Becky swallowed. her throat bobbed, and she spent another split second hesitating.

but then she took the permission as it was given to her, and she leant forward and crossed those few centimeters between them.

her eyes closed as soon as their lips met once more, tentatively and tender in movement at first.

the kiss lasted longer this time.

Becky had the chance to reciprocate, and, as she did, she felt like that electricity from earlier had come back.

there were tiny shooting stars and supernovas fizzling and burning all over her skin, most noticeably on her lips and hand, the two points directly connected to Charlotte, and their warmth was spreading out to envelop her entire body.

when they both had to pull back, to regain air in their lungs, they still kept their foreheads together. 

"well, now i hope i do remember in the morning."

Becky let out a light breath through her nose, in amusement, in disbelief, in happiness. she didn't have a lot of energy left anymore. her exhaustion was starting to set in, and she was sure Charlotte's was too, so all she could say was, "me too."

she moved her head away even further so she could, instead, press a kiss to the bridge of Charlotte's nose and then to the space between Charlotte's eyebrows. 

"will you remind me?" Charlotte asked. "if i don't?"

their gazes met, and they stayed still for a bit. 

Becky eventually nodded, faintly. 

"yeah. i will."

"you promise?"

"yeah. i promise."

Charlotte gave a small grin, trusting and true. 

"okay."

she disentangled their fingers so that she could reach out and wrap her arms around Becky's waist, pulling her completely closer and flush against her. 

she rested her head against Becky's chest, and Becky let her chin drop against the line of Charlotte's hair in turn.

she returned the embrace around the backs of Charlotte's shoulders, and she lifted a hand to run her fingers through blonde tresses at the back of Charlotte's head that were still a little tangled.

"thank you," Charlotte whispered, before the lull could last long enough to have them drifting off. "forgot to thank you for standing up for me earlier."

"it's no problem, love," Becky answered. "you know i've got you."

"yeah," was nodded against her. "you've got me." a beat of quiet. "don't let go?"

and when Becky had said, "i could never," she'd meant it. in that moment, holding Charlotte, still feeling the pressure of the two kisses on her lips, she'd never thought she could mean anything more. 

she'd fallen asleep with her brain feeling a little fuzzy and with everything else slightly out of focus, but she had known that she never wanted to let Charlotte go. 

but then the morning came. and it eradicated all the warmth and fuzziness. 

it made everything feel cold and sharp. 

because when she'd awoken, her head was throbbing and so was her hand, and the bed was empty at her side. 

when she'd awoken, Charlotte had already been up for god only knew how long, and, though she looked worse for wear, she was finally functioning and sober again.

and Becky hadn't known how to go about broaching the subject of the night before, which was still pressing and prominent in her thoughts, peeking through the pounding of her headache.

so, she'd silently taken the water that Charlotte offered her as she padded her way into the kitchen, and she sat at the counter across from where Charlotte was cooking eggs.

(she never knew how Charlotte managed to make herself move through any amount of sickness or pain. she didn't think she ever would. it was a marvel, honestly.)

they didn't say much more than mumbled greetings with barely open eyes, but that was alright, because they had never needed to share words to appreciate their time together.

so, everything felt as calm and content as it could with their hangovers still looming over them.

but then, as Becky reached out to take the plate Charlotte was handing her, that calmness and contentment—and any lingering warmth and fuzziness—disappeared. 

"hey, oh my god, what happened to your hand?"

Becky instantly felt her heart drop—droop like flowers thrusted into the shade.

she instantly felt more awake.

she let Charlotte take her indicated hand, the hand she'd held the night before, and examine the bruising of her knuckles, the way she had the night before.

she watched the way Charlotte's eyes traced over the injury like she was seeing it for the first time, and she was so suddenly crestfallen she could've cried.

"you don't remember?" she'd asked, quietly.

Charlotte's eyebrows furrowed, as her gaze lifted to meet Becky's own.

"what? no? did i do this somehow?"

Becky had to swallow around her disappointment. her throat bobbed. 

her eyes flickered away, as her emotions rose up and tried to overrun her barriers. she blinked harshly. 

this felt worse than any other moment of 'three steps back.' this was like fifty feet back. this was like being yanked back a hundred yards right when you'd been on the verge of a touchdown. 

and Charlotte's quiet voice in her head, asking her to remind her, did spark to life. she did remember the promise she'd made, that she would, but it suddenly felt flimsy, in the brightness of the daylight and under the clarity and curiosity of Charlotte's stare.

she couldn't do it.

her head was throbbing, and so was her hand, and she didn't have any courage left in her veins. 

this blow simply felt too brutal to overcome. this receding, this unintentional withdrawal, was devastating. 

it was devastating, and Becky couldn't bring herself to try to make up for the lost progress again. 

because Charlotte had only said she’d been wanting to kiss Becky that night, and Becky, meanwhile, had been wanting to kiss Charlotte every night and every day—every minute of every hour—for years.

Becky didn't know how Charlotte would react if she brought it up again, and she did think that she couldn't take another hit to the heart. 

so, she broke her promise, and she didn't remind Charlotte. 

she broke her promise, and she let go. 

she took her hand out of Charlotte's grip carefully. 

"no. you didn't do it. it was just some guy at the club yesterday being a jerk. don't worry about it."

and Charlotte's eyes had been worried, they'd shone in the same way they had at the club, and, this time, there was no haze over them to dilute it. so, it was pure concern, unadulterated care.

but Becky couldn't focus on it. she couldn't try to soothe it away. 

because Charlotte didn't remember, but Becky did, and it felt like the cruelest joke the universe could have ever played on her. 

it had made her feel numb and aching all at once, right in the kitchen. 

it had made her feel brittle and ready to break in two for the rest of the day, but she'd managed to keep it together until Charlotte left to go to dinner with her father. 

and, by then, she'd been repressing the tears and the heartbreak down so persistently over the course of those hours that had passed, that it didn't dare try to surface any longer. 

so, her eyes were completely dry. her lips didn't quiver. 

when she'd grabbed her keys, her hands didn't shake. 

when she got to the club, from the night before, her resolve didn't waver. 

when she saw the same bartender, she didn't feel much of anything. she just wanted a drink.

and he gave it to her, true to his word.

he didn't push or pry for her to talk about what was bothering her, and she was glad, because she didn't go for a therapy session. she went to forget for a little while, and he was good enough company to allow that, so by the time she was leaving, not drunk and not tipsy, but feeling a little better, she gave him her number. 

and when he gave her a smile, the whiteness of it in the dimmed lights almost reminded her of Charlotte's. it almost made her feel the same warmth.

so, when he called her the next day and asked when he could take her out, she told him. 

even though the thought of anyone else taking her out felt wrong, she told him. even though he wasn't Charlotte, she told him.

and on the designated night, he showed up, looking put together and clean cut, and it grew from there. 

it grew rapidly, really. like vines spreading out from the source and entangling everything in its path, their relationship grew. almost haphazardly, it felt like. 

Becky had been so desperate to feel anything other than the constriction of her chest whenever she heard Charlotte’s name, saw Charlotte’s face, smelled Charlotte’s perfume, that any movement away felt like a win.

it didn’t matter the speed. 

it didn’t matter that everyone else in her life was caught off-guard by him. it didn’t matter that introducing him to Charlotte felt wrong and really close to a betrayal of some sort.

Becky just needed to move on. that was what she had resolved before she'd gone back to the club that day.

she'd resolved that she needed to start protecting her heart, because she’d left it unguarded to Charlotte for so long, and it’d made her so susceptible to that final blow that she hadn’t thought she was going to be able to recover.

so, no, he wasn’t Charlotte, but, for the time being, that was a good thing. it was a thing Becky needed.

but then, as Becky started to really get to know him, she realized that the things she was most drawn to in him, were the things she had fallen in love with in Charlotte.

he wasn’t Charlotte, but there were aspects of her in him that allowed Becky to pretend she was content with their relationship.

like how his hair wasn’t as soft, wasn’t _as blonde_ , but it was close enough. or how his height was just a little too towering, not as comforting or comfortable, but it was only an inch or two off. and how the way he said her name wasn’t as gentle, not quite as reverent, but got really near to the way Charlotte said her name.

so, yeah, as she noticed that his hands might’ve been too large, his eyes might’ve been the wrong color, his voice might’ve been too coarse, it was those small aspects that allowed Becky to believe she was content.

for a while they did, at least.

when she was unaware of what it was that drew her to him, she was able to keep herself under the illusion of contentment. when she and Charlotte started to spend less time together as a result of Becky spending more time with him, Becky’s lack of exposure created gaps that he seemed to fill.

she temporarily lapsed on the knowledge of what Charlotte’s shade of blonde was, on what Charlotte’s height felt like next to her, on the way Charlotte uttered her name.

the time period of separation—the lapse in knowledge—lasted longer than any other except for the time when they had been on different brands, and it was all a result of Becky trying to move on, to push past it, to get over Charlotte.

but then the separation ended just as abruptly as it seemed to have begun. because, one day, after a live show, Charlotte had grabbed ahold of Becky’s hand and pulled her, much like she had at the club, into a more secluded area of a hall.

she'd ignored Becky's initial question of, "where are you taking me?" and kept walking until they'd made it to their destination.

then, with the other people and noises muffled and distant, she’d looked at Becky with a minor furrow to her eyebrows, like she was trying to keep it off her face but couldn’t quite get a grasp on all of the feeling she had.

she’d bitten down on her bottom lip and stood there for a while, still holding Becky’s hand, looking like she didn’t really know what to say, looking like there was a lot she wanted to say but wouldn’t follow through with.

she’d seemed caught up in a lot turmoil, but she was only showing a little bit of it, only showing a touch of the turbulence within her.

and Becky hadn't had the knowhow to do anything but hold Charlotte’s hand back, because it had been far too long since she’d experienced the sensation, and she’d somehow managed to forget—convinced herself she didn’t have it engrained—what the smoothness of Charlotte’s skin felt like against her own. she'd somehow managed to forget how Charlotte’s hand fit perfectly around her own and gripped it like it was a special thing to hold.

she’d somehow managed to forget—or, at least, convince herself—but standing there, with her back against a wall and nowhere else to go, she remembered.

she remembered everything. because Charlotte’s hair was loosely curled and framing her face, and it was the shade of blonde Becky’s eyes were used to. Charlotte was looking down at her, and it was the angle Becky’s chin knew how to fall into easily. Charlotte was holding her hand, and she was looking at her with her green eyes, and Becky remembered.

she’d been a fool to think she could forget for long.

she hadn’t thought any of it through, and she knew that as soon as Charlotte whispered, “i miss you.”

because Charlotte’s voice was gentle and low, the tone and timbre Becky had always listened to and had fallen in love with, and it wrapped around her like a safety blanket.

Becky couldn’t believe she’d managed to go as long as she had without it being so directed at her. she couldn’t believe she’d thought she’d be okay with it just being a passing element in her life.

she truly hadn’t thought any of it through, and she knew that.

but, true to form, she had swallowed some around Charlotte’s words, and she’d tried to deflect instead of acknowledging.

“you miss me?” she’d repeated lightly, with an intentionally misguided smile, not mockingly but trying to dodge the true meaning. “i’m right here, Charlie.”

she immediately hated the way Charlotte’s lips tilted down at the edges. she watched as some more of that turmoil injected itself into Charlotte's expression, and then she shifted her gaze away, towards the passing sound of a door closing.

“are you?”

Becky's eyes defied her directions by slipping back into place within seconds of the utterance.

"yeah," was her automatic response, without any thought: an unintentional lie. "'course. where else would i be?"

Charlotte had pressed her lips together, like an answer had come unbidden and she'd barely been able to bite it back.

she'd tilted her head, and Becky barely stopped herself from mimicking the movement.

"i just... we haven't really been spending any time together outside of work, and, i mean, yeah we ride together still, but it... it doesn't feel the same... or—i don't know."

Charlotte's eyes were searching Becky's face for any sign that she was following her train of thought, and when they didn't seem to find one, they slid closed. her jaw ticked once as she shook her thoughts around and visibly redirected herself.

she took a moment or two more to speak again, and she was quieter when she did.

"i'm not even making sense to myself." she let out a breathy huff, an imposter of a laugh. she squeezed Becky's fingers and tried to form a smile. "i'm sorry. don't worry about it, Becks. i'm just in my head, i think."

Charlotte had taken her hand out of Becky's then, and Becky hadn't tightened her grip fast enough to prevent the loss. it was another one of those withdrawals, another one of those readjustments.

"i'm—uh... i'm gonna go start the car. i'll see you in a few, yeah?"

Charlotte accompanied her question with a nod, that was just as faint as the shaking of her thoughts had been—half-hearted and not very good at hiding that turmoil any longer.

she didn't wait for an answer as she started to turn, but she did reach up and lightly brush a touch across the corner of Becky's cheekbone, mostly out of a routine that couldn't be broken by just a few weeks of more sparse interactions.

the smile she still had on her lips was one of Becky's least favorite ones, because it was frail and see-through and filled with false feeling. it was subtly sad, and, whenever it had arisen in the past, Becky had always tried to do anything to make it go away, or shift and morph into a more genuine one.

so, she had no other option but to try to do the same in this instance as well.

"wait, Charlie," she said, as Charlotte got only a step away.

she reached out once more, took Charlotte's hand in her own. (after she'd just been reminded what prolonged physical contact with Charlotte felt like, she couldn't bear the thought of letting it go again. consequences be damned.)

Charlotte's smile had faded by then, but its absence hadn't been taken up by anything better yet.

Becky's throat bobbed.

"you're making sense," she said. "i—i understand what you mean. it does feel different, and that's my fault, and i'm sorry. i've been so distracted by... by him, and i've been a bad friend, a bad partner, to you, and i apologize." she squeezed Charlotte's hand, much like Charlotte had squeezed hers. "truly."

there was only a beat or two of quiet before Charlotte said, "no, it's alright, Becky,” terribly gently. “i didn't mean to make you feel guilty. i get it. you're in a newer relationship. of course you're going to want to spend all of your time together. i just miss you, is all. like i said. so, any spare time you've got, just let me know, yeah? we can go eat or something."

an ache lanced through Becky's limbs, at the genuineness of Charlotte's words, at the utter lack of irritation or contempt.

the urge to mutter, "i don't deserve you," was so suddenly strong within her tongue that she'd had to curl her toes into the soles of her shoes. she'd almost had to cough against the clogged feeling that had abruptly filled her chest.

she hadn't been able to think of a response before Charlotte then told her, "and, please, like you could ever be a bad partner. you're the best there is."

and by that point, Charlotte's smile had finally shifted into something more grounded in sincere emotion. she was looking at Becky with that irrevocable tenderness, with undeniable trust and even devotion, and Becky had to forcefully remind herself of his existence to keep from pulling the woman into her arms.

she mustered a playful smirk of her own.

"oh, well, i'm sure there's someone out there who could be just as good in a tag match, but thank you, lass."

they’d started walking then, side by side, and when Charlotte withdrew her hand again, the loss didn't feel devastating, because she’d slung her arm over Becky's shoulders too quickly to let it settle in.

"nope,” she disagreed. “i don't think there is, and even if there happened to be somebody out there, it doesn't matter. they're not for me. won't be any new partner out there for me as long as i've got you by my side. believe that."

Becky leant into Charlotte's side some more. she wanted to stop their walk and bury her face in Charlotte's neck.

she said, instead, teasingly, "that's a very romantic sentiment," and she made sure Charlotte could see her grin. "but you know it's right back at you."

she could have sworn she’d seen Charlotte’s chin tremble some, but it was too quick of a motion, too easily concealed by the widening of that smile.

so, Becky didn’t mention it or think much about it.

she brought her arm up to wrap around Charlotte’s waist as they walked and changed the topic, and her fingers curled in close against Charlotte’s hip.

they fell into step and slotted back into place, and, after that, they acted as they always had.

(almost.)

because Becky had been reminded, and she couldn’t bring herself to, again, try to forget. so they spent as much time together as possible, around the time Becky spent with him, and it felt like settling back into the routine, except intensified.

because every moment before, when Becky had let her gaze and her touches linger, was already mildly charged with electricity. but after that day? there was always the ever-present knowledge of him overhanging them.

Becky would go to reach out and brush hair from Charlotte’s forehead but would realize that might have been too affectionate. or she would go to hug Charlotte, hold her close, and realize that clinging like she was didn’t fall into the criteria of platonic.

she would pull back more quickly than she used to. she was the one performing the withdrawals, the readjustments, then, and, every time, it felt wrong.

she wanted to not care. she wanted to act just as in love with Charlotte as she always had, but she couldn’t.

because Charlotte didn’t love her like that, and he _was_ starting to love her like that, and she thought, maybe, she _could_ love him like that if she just tried hard enough.

she'd thought that if she just _tried_ hard enough, she could transfer all of that love she felt for Charlotte to him. because he was a pretty good guy, and he deserved to get as much as he gave.

but that was flawed logic too, it didn't take long for her to discover.

spending time with Charlotte again but having him around as a buffer didn't do the job she'd thought it would.

instead of redirecting and refocusing her love onto him, it just made her compare him to Charlotte. it made the stark contrasts and the close—but maybe not even close enough anymore—similarities stand out even more.

it made her more hyper-aware of how much restraint she needed too.

because her instinct was always to be close to Charlotte, to always be by Charlotte's side, to hold Charlotte's hand and to kiss Charlotte's head.

but when they went out to dinners or clubs or parties, he was the one standing beside her, holding her hand, kissing her temple.

and all of it was like a rewiring of her most fundamental elements and programming, but, still, she believed that if she just saw it through, it'd eventually take hold permanently.

still, she pushed on. she let him love her, and she tried to love him, and when he proposed, it felt like the logical next step. because if they were to be married, maybe her brain would finally get her heart to fall in line.

but that had only felt like it would work for a few hours.

because then she saw Charlotte again, in person, and she remembered that her heart wasn't a soldier. it wouldn't follow orders. it never had.

it refused to focus on him, even with the engagement.

and then, when Becky found out that Charlotte was sick, that Charlotte was _dying_ , there was no way it could be tugged away from its trajectory.

because, god, the mere _thought_ of existing in an alternate universe where Charlotte and her hadn't crossed paths had sent her into an existential spiral before. but the reality that she and Charlotte had crossed paths in their current universe, and Becky was about to _lose_ the woman? it'd made her joints come close to crumbling at their cores. she'd almost collapsed to the floor.

when she'd finally gotten backstage after Charlotte had retreated during that pay per view, she'd been so worried, but she hadn't thought of anything even close to what was really wrong.

she'd looked down to see wet floor signs around a collection of petals on the ground, and her mind couldn't even click with it yet. she just kind of froze in her spot and tilted her head.

"Becky," was the careful murmur of her name that caught her attention, and she'd looked up to see Stephanie in front of her, with an air about her that made things feel heavy and ready to drop.

other eyes were watching them, watching Becky, specifically, trying to see her reaction.

and that's when it clicked.

her stomach had bottomed out.

"Charlotte?" she'd whispered.

Stephanie only gave a faint nod of her head.

Becky's eyes had already begun to burn with tears before the answer came.

"Bayley led her some—."

Becky was moving too quickly to listen to the rest of the statement. she knew it wouldn't give her the answer she needed.

her journey to the right place didn't take as long as one would've thought. (she and Charlotte were connected, after all. there was always that string between them, and Becky would follow her anywhere.)

but while she walked—more like stumbled and tried not to slip—everything around her and about her was reeling off of their axes of rotation. the cornerstones of her stability were crumpling in on themselves.

finding out Charlotte was sick was the absolute worst thing that had ever happened to her, and it had caught her off guard so fully that her brain felt like it was vibrating against her skull trying to comprehend it.

and as soon as she saw Charlotte sitting, with a petal at her side, every ounce of denial she'd tried to cling onto disappeared.

so, she had tried to cling onto Charlotte, instead. she'd listened to Charlotte apologizing, for not telling her sooner, and she'd tried to transport them both to anywhere else, anywhere better.

but she couldn't.

she'd wanted to be all that Charlotte needed, but she'd thought she couldn't be, and that was the worst part.

it was what tormented her.

in the moments where she wasn't with Charlotte immediately, taking care of her, looking after her, Becky was still thinking about her.

she was wondering about _who_ Charlotte could be in love with, about _who_ _wouldn't_ love Charlotte back.

there was that passing thought, that, maybe, it was her. but, then, that didn't make sense, because Charlotte had been with her and around her before she'd gotten together with him, and if she'd wanted to be with her, she would have made a move. she would have been with Becky already, before there had been any chance for someone else to come into the picture. 

she wouldn't have withdrawn.

so, Becky thought it couldn't be her. Charlotte hadn't loved her before she was with him, so why would she suddenly love her after him? it simply didn't make sense.

but nothing made sense, and Becky quickly learned that she'd just have to accept that.

there were so many things that she'd come to know needed to be accepted.  

like, how, even though there was still the niggling in the back of her mind, telling her to ask, she had to accept that Charlotte didn't want to tell her who it was. because Charlotte had never not told her anything before, and if she didn't want to tell her, then Becky had to respect her reasonings.

Becky had to respect her reasonings, and, so, she didn’t ask.

but she should’ve. she should’ve asked.

she should’ve never given up on Charlotte. she should’ve never tried to move on with someone else.

if she’d waited a little longer—if she'd just reminded Charlotte like she'd promised—then they wouldn’t have ended up in their current situation, with Becky sitting at the side of Charlotte’s hospital bed, begging her to stay.

if she’d just waited a little longer. if she’d just been a little braver.

then she wouldn’t have had to hear the words, spit harshly at her by him, so close to her face, to make sure they stuck to her skin.

‘ _you’re selfish, Becky. not me. you let people give and give and give you love, but what do we get in return?’_

her heart had felt heavy as it thudded against her chest, weighed down by the guilt and shame she could never rid herself of, due to the love she could never rid herself of.

_‘a broken promise of ‘i do?’’_

she’d tried to swallow around bile as he scoffed.

_'a lungful of flow—.'_

but then everything and every urge of an action in Becky had felt like it had frozen in that one instant, during that one sentence.

it felt like she’d been struck in the stomach.

_a lungful of flowers._

that was what he had been about to say, before Charlotte had suddenly appeared, always out of nowhere, always present and persistent in looking out for Becky.

_a lungful of flowers._

Becky could still feel the sickening sensation of dread in her limbs, weighing them down like the guilt in her heart, making them near impossible to move.

just like when she’d gone backstage and seen those petals, it took a second, but in the next one it clicked. she registered what he was implying.

she felt seriously sick.

but before she could be overwhelmed by any ounce of the revelation and its readiness to rip her apart, Charlotte had been hurt, and all of her focus redirected itself.

the eradication of her infrastructure's strength was ignored, because she'd just needed to make sure Charlotte was okay. she'd just needed to take care of Charlotte. 

she knew she could check on herself and process the information and figure out what to do after she made sure Charlotte was settled in her room. so that's what she did. 

after she'd given Charlotte painkillers and ice and practically tucked her into bed, she'd almost hesitated. she'd almost turned around and told Charlotte she loved her and asked if she could lie with her like she had the night before—the fourth night.

but Charlotte was hurt and tired, and Becky had thought that it could wait until the morning. 

Becky had needed to get the clutter of her thoughts in order before she told Charlotte everything. 

but then, when she was lying in her bed, trying to do just that, she'd drifted off. she'd had that dream, and she'd been sent spiraling, and everything else followed in her wake. 

she shouldn't have waited. she had been mistaken to think they had time to waste. 

she never seemed to make the right choice, and she took everything she had for granted, and, so, there she was, two weeks later, sitting at Charlotte's bedside, holding her hand, hoping she'd stay. 

she had spent so much time thinking that Charlotte didn't love her, when there were so many signs that she did. 

she had spent so much time trying to move on, thinking that she could, but she had been wrong, and stupid, and naive.

she couldn't reverse her love for Charlotte, and everyone had known that the whole time. he had known it too. it was why everything felt so bitter towards the end. it was why she felt too guilty to look at him most days.

she had broken her promise to Charlotte, to remind her, to not let go, and she didn't think she would be able to live with herself if she wasn't given the chance to make up for it.

no, she _knew_ she wouldn't be able to live with herself.

she was barely living as it was.

she had barely been keeping herself together enough to walk and talk and breathe in the two weeks that Charlotte had spent in the hospital. 

so, there was no way she would be able to live a whole life without Charlotte at her side. 

Charlotte was her best friend, her one and only, the love of her life, and she needed her. 

Becky knew Charlotte was stubborn, and that Charlotte was a fighter, but she was still so scared that Charlotte wouldn't hold on any longer, simply because she had been fighting for so long. 

she was so scared, and, at times, that fear was so overwhelming that she didn't know what to do with it. at times, it presented itself on its own, without her purposeful action on it. 

so, she was surprised by her own voice, when it suddenly sounded out in steely syllables with, “you are not allowed to go yet, Charlotte."

she almost made herself jump.

her hand subtly tightened around Charlotte's but not enough to hurt. she was always painfully and painstakingly careful in how she touched Charlotte, and this time was no different.

she blinked quickly and inhaled a slow breath through her nose. 

she got quieter, less aggressive.

“you have to come back to me, do you understand?” her voice broke. “i—i still _need you_ , Charlie. god, i’ll always need you.”

a pathetic imposter of a sob pushed at the backs of her lips, but it was so weak it didn't make it out. it only propelled her forward just a little. 

“i promise i’ll never be stupid enough to take you for granted again. i'll—i'll let you drive when you ask, and i’ll drive when you don’t want to. i’ll always make you tea, and i'll hold you after your nightmares, and i’ll watch any lame vampire movies you find. hell, i’ll even stop calling them lame vampire movies. just—just please hold on for me, okay? i know you're tired, and you've been fighting for so long, but i can’t do this without you. and if you wake up, you won't ever have to do anything without me again. you won't ever have to go another day feeling unloved, i promise.”

Becky's tears were fully falling, freely and with no regard for where they landed, and, with each new blink, fresh ones toppled over her eyelids and onto her cheeks. but she made no move to wipe them away.

she could barely even see Charlotte anymore, but she couldn't make herself let go of Charlotte's hand. 

“just please wake up. so i can tell you i love you every single day that you’ll let me.”

and that was something she'd said on every other day that she'd spent at Charlotte's bedside. it was something she'd promised every other time she'd held Charlotte's hand and asked if she could hear her. 

and just like every other time she'd said it and promised it, Charlotte remained still.

her eyes didn't open. they didn't flutter. there was no movement even behind her faintly bruised lids. 

and just like every other time, Becky felt that same disappointment, the kind she'd recognized in Bayley earlier, take hold of her once more. 

and, like with Bayley earlier, a hand came down to rest upon her shoulder sympathetically. 

she didn't even have to glance up to know that it was Sasha, coming in to say goodbye before she left to get some of the sleep she'd been lacking for days, sleep that would still probably elude her. 

she didn't even have to glance up, and Sasha didn't expect her to. Sasha didn't expect her to do anything, and she wouldn't judge her in what she chose, and that was why she let herself dissolve completely under the touch. 

the hand shifted, across the back of her shoulders, and then there were arms embracing her, and she was crying into Sasha's stomach, clinging on around Sasha's waist as the woman stood in front of her.

they existed there together for what could have been another two weeks.

eventually, Becky asked, "what am i gonna do if she's not okay, Sash?" and the hold on her strengthened.

one of the hands on her moved up to rest against the back of her head.

the answer of, "she's going to be," was slightly strained, but it was steady. "she's going to make it." Becky's shoulders shook. "and you're going to tell her everything she's been hearing for the past two weeks, and it'll all be alright."

Becky drew back finally, to gaze up at Sasha, who was staring tearfully down at her. the glimmer of tears in her eyes made the light around Sasha's head fanned out and shimmery, almost like a halo, and Becky wouldn't have been surprised if it was real. 

"you hear me?" Sasha asked, at her lack of response. "she's going to keep fighting, and that means you are too. neither one of you are allowed to give up." Becky's chin wavered. "do you hear me?"

Becky nodded.

she heard her. 

she would keep fighting.

for herself. for Charlotte. 

she promised.

\---

_come back, i still need you._

\---

three days. 

three days passed before Becky got the call.

she had been forced to go home again—to shower, to eat, to sleep. 

she was still fighting, but she was dragging her feet a little. 

she was trying her best. 

she managed to shower, but it was mostly just sitting under the heat of the water and letting it scald her skin. 

she managed to eat, but she didn't taste any of it. she could barely swallow it down. 

she managed to lie in her bed, but not to sleep. 

she stared up at the ceiling, as she'd done for the past two and a half weeks. 

the sheets in the guest room—Charlotte's room—had almost lost Charlotte's smell by that point, but Becky laid among them because there were still some traces of it in a few of the threads.

the emptiness beside her felt mocking, taunting, worse than that morning when she'd woken up after they kissed. 

she remembered the nights when she had held and been held by Charlotte in the same exact spot, and it was like a phantom feeling of those arms around her was fluttering across her skin.

it was always fleeting—the smells, the phantom feeling, the mirage of Charlotte beside her—but if Becky shut her eyes tight enough, focused hard enough, then she could make it last a little longer. 

when the phone rang, she was nearly focusing too hard to notice. 

but like a snap of a finger, it sprung into her awareness, and she grabbed the device and brought it to her ear with a speed that absolutely had to be supernatural. 

she barely caught a glimpse of the caller id in her swiftness, but barely was enough. 

“Bayley?” she answered breathlessly, feeling every fear as it clogged her esophagus. “what is it?”

she had already moved off of her bed and found her shoes within the first second, despite the heavy sensation in her legs trying to weigh her down with dread. as she said Bayley's name, she pressed the phone to her ear with her shoulder, and she tried to overcome the shaking of her fingers well enough to just tie her laces.

there was one half of a beat after her question, and then, “she’s awake.”

Becky nearly collapsed in relief right there. a sob she hadn’t known was present pushed past the fear in her throat and burst forth without warning. she brought her hand up to her lips and pressed the back of it into them.

“she’s been asking for you ever since they took the tube out.”

“tell her i’ll be there. i’m coming.” she was at the door then, grabbing for her keys from the bowl, grabbing the jacket she'd been wearing off the rack. “ten minutes.”

“fifteen,” Bayley retorted instantly, though she understood Becky's haste. “ _please_ don’t speed and get into a wreck.”

“twelve minutes. tell her i’ll be there in twelve.”

it took her eleven. she nearly broke the fender of her car going over one of the speed bumps in the parking lot. 

she couldn't have cared less. 

she didn't have the patience to wait for the elevator, so she sprinted up the stairs instead. 

when she got to the right floor, the fourth floor, she had to shove her hands in the pockets of the jacket because of how badly they'd started to tremble. 

Sasha and Bayley were standing outside of the door when she made it to the hall. they looked tear-stained and tremulous as well, but there was a heightened sense of hope in their faces. Becky could feel it rising within her too. 

"she's still—?"

"she's still awake," Bayley nodded.

all of the small doubts and seeds of worry that had wormed their way in and tried to plant themselves on the way there shrunk away.

Sasha gave her an encouraging smile. she grabbed her by the biceps firmly.

"please go get your girl."

Becky nodded. she turned towards the door, and, for the first time, she didn't feel any hesitation when wrapping her hand around the handle.

she didn't feel any hesitation walking inside. 

every step was purposeful.

\---

_let me take your hand, i'll make it right._

\---

it took about four steps until she was in the room fully, and when she rounded the corner and saw Charlotte sitting upright, propped up by her pillows and looking right at her, all of her composure slipped away again, under the impact of the image.

her knees immediately tried to crumple beneath her, as a sob of relief rattled her teeth.

her vision blurred instantly, too, but she could see Charlotte reaching out for her with one weak hand, beckoning her closer, and she moved forward on instinct.

their fingers entwined, Becky's left hand pressed against Charlotte's right, and then Becky brought her own right hand up to clasp over the both of theirs, to hold on tightly, in the _right way_.

"Becks."

Becky's jaw trembled in time with her lips, her legs, her arms. she pressed her mouth against Charlotte's knuckles and blinked until she could more clearly see the greenness that was still living in Charlotte's eyes.

(green: the color of life, rejuvenation, safety. everything that Charlotte deserved. everything that Charlotte would have again.)

"Charlie," Becky breathed out, into Charlotte's skin. “Charlotte.”

Becky could see, through her tears, that Charlotte was looking at her with a pained expression, an empathetic expression, like she was about to apologize.

and Becky couldn’t take that.

she refused to.

not ever again.

\---

_i swear to love you all my life._

\---

“Becks, ‘m sorry. i—.”

“ _I love you._ ”

Charlotte’s expression suddenly stilled in its forming of creases of conflict. a shell-shocked, disbelieving shift took place.

“you—.” her eyebrows furrowed almost forcefully. the hoarseness of her voice seemed intensified with the utterance of: “what?”

“ _I love you_ ,” Becky repeated, with reverence, like it was the only thing she’d ever been sure of.

Charlotte’s furrowed eyebrows lifted then, not completely, still as close together as possible. she was still confused, not really believing what Becky was telling her, not quite grasping it all.

she hadn't been expecting such an abrupt declaration, and Becky understood that. so, she carefully sat down on the edge of the mattress. she brought their linked fingers to rest atop her lap but then lifted them, instead, to her chest, right over her sternum, atop the beating of her heart.

“Charlotte, please tell me the truth,” she said quietly, trying to be as careful as possible with Charlotte’s senses, remembering what turmoil and trouble had done to them last time. “is it me? that you love?”

the myriad of emotions that flashed and collided across the features of Charlotte’s face then was as much confirmation as it was fascinating.

Becky still held her breath, still held Charlotte’s hand, as she watched the woman work through the walk towards her answer. and all of that pent up air came out in a whoosh, as a choked whisper of, “yes,” reverberated between them.

every tension in Becky’s body released and uncoiled under the weight of the word.

her vision blurred again.

she dropped Charlotte’s hand completely, so that she could frame Charlotte’s jaw with the heels of her palms instead.

“did you hear me?” she asked next. “when i said that i love you too?”

Charlotte’s gaze flickered back and forth across the space separating Becky’s eyes. it swam in its own sea, made green by her irises, but, finally, it didn’t seem like it was drowning.

she nodded, just barely.

“yes.”

Becky’s hold on Charlotte’s jaw subtly tightened. her fingertips shifted some against the strands of Charlotte’s hair.

“do you believe me? or should i say it again?”

Charlotte’s chest rose and fell raggedly.

when she spoke next, her voice came out incredibly hushed, but Becky heard her.

“say it again.”

and, so, Becky leaned forward, until their faces were mere centimeters apart. she listened to the way Charlotte’s breath caught, and she wiped away the tear that came to fall against the pad of one of her thumbs.

her eyes flitted up, and her eyelashes fluttered, just for a moment, before she gently nudged her nose sideways into Charlotte’s own.

“Charlotte,” she whispered. “I love you. _I’m in love with you.”_

Charlotte sobbed weakly. a half of a hiccup slipped away from her, as she brought her hands up to latch onto the lapels of Becky’s jacket—her _own_ jacket that Becky had been wearing for two and a half weeks because it helped her feel closer; her fingers curled in tight and tugged just barely.

“ _I love you_ ,” she murmured back. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Becky said again, leaning her forehead against Charlotte’s own.

Charlotte drew in a short gasp, and Becky was worried, for a fleeting moment, that something was wrong.

but then Charlotte breathed out, “please prove it,” and Becky didn’t have to be told twice.

she crossed the centimeters between them without any further hesitation, and her eyes slid closed as soon as their lips met, not tentative any longer but still tender in movement at first.

she kissed Charlotte like she had on that one night before, but this time she didn’t feel any fear, any doubt, anything other than the solidity Charlotte always provided. even in moments when everything else felt tremulous, Charlotte had always been solid. she’d always been there for Becky, and Becky just wanted to return the favor.

Becky just wanted to let her know that she’d never gone anywhere.

or she’d never meant to go anywhere, at least.

she regretted breaking her promise every day.

“i’m sorry,” she said, against Charlotte’s mouth. “i’m so sorry.”

she proceeded to repeat those two words, like Charlotte had to her on the day she’d found the petals backstage at the pay per view, like Charlotte had when she’d held her and felt so bad for not telling her sooner.

like on that day, Becky herself repeated the words. she held Charlotte, and she felt so bad for not telling Charlotte sooner, and she repeated them until they tumbled too clumsily from her tongue to be sensical.

“shh,” Charlotte tried to soothe her, but Becky had to keep going.

she had to explain herself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry,” she began, still in a surge of syllables. “i didn’t know. you always said you were married to the job, and that there was no one out there, and so i tried to move on with him, but it didn’t work, and i’m so stupid. i’m so sorry. you’re all there is for me. i promise.”

Charlotte pressed her palms into the sides of Becky's neck, from where she’d moved her hands during their kiss. she blinked at the tears in her eyes as they made space enough to look at one another.

she inhaled a minorly rattling breath.

“you promise?” she repeated, and she smiled when Becky nodded. “with your pinky?”

Becky let out a weak, watery laugh.

“yeah. finger and toe.”

Charlotte’s smile widened, into something more like a grin, and it had been so _long_ since Becky had seen anything like it, without any sign of sorrow behind it, that one of her tears finally tipped over the edge of her lashes.

Charlotte’s thumb brushed it away.

“i believe you.”

Becky’s bottom lip wobbled some, and Charlotte’s thumb then traveled down, to help steady it. Becky kissed the pad of it as best as she could, before curling her fingers around the back of Charlotte’s hand and shifting her chin down so that she could press a series of kisses against Charlotte’s palm.

“i’ve been in love with you from the moment we met,” Charlotte whispered then. “you’ve always had me. you always will.” Becky swallowed. “you’ve got me, love.”

“i’ve got you,” Becky repeated Charlotte’s words just like Charlotte had repeated hers, as a way of trying to make them sink in and seem realer.

“yeah, you’ve got me,” Charlotte said one more time. “i’m yours.”

“i am completely yours,” Becky promised too, immediately. “i’ve been yours from the very moment i helped you stand up in the PC for the first time.” Charlotte’s eyes seemed to twinkle some at that. “through everything and every person and all the missteps, i’ve been yours. and i’m so sorry for not letting you know sooner, for giving up on waiting. i’d wait for you forever.”

“five years feels like enough,” Charlotte said. “and it’s not just on you. i should’ve been braver, all that time ago. we both took the wrong routes too many times. but we’re here now, right?”

“right,” Becky nodded, with a smile settling in. “it’s me and you, you and me.”

“til the end of the line?”

“you got it, baby.”

Charlotte pulled her closer that time. she kissed her like it was the only thing she’d ever wanted to do in her life.

Becky’s heart started to beat at a more stable rate as the seconds passed by, but it spiked again, at the sound of a distinct, mechanic beep. they were both startled enough to break apart, but Becky is the one that looked up, to the side, to that monitor she so hated and sort of appreciated.

“oh my god,” she breathed out. “look.”

Charlotte turned, with a minor amount of difficulty, craning her neck just a little to see that the green line on the screen had retracted some. it had withdrawn in a way they both knew so well.

Becky glanced back to Charlotte to see the woman with another one of those real grins, wide and blinding in its brightness. when their eyes met again, they both let out wavering laughs, filled with so much relief it was almost palpable.

Becky surged forward once more, this time to just bring Charlotte fully into her arms. she lifted her hands and cradled the back of Charlotte’s head, just as Charlotte pressed her nose into her neck and returned the embrace around her torso.

"you're okay," she whispered, pretty much for the purpose of convincing herself. "you're alright."

Charlotte nodded, to try to help her along in that path of believing but to try to help herself as well. 

"i knew i couldn't go anywhere you can't follow," she said softly. "and i could hear you. sometimes." Becky pulled away so that they could look at one another again. "it was... your voice was super faint, and it didn't even really seem real, but i could hear you, asking me to stay." she swallowed. "to hold on and to come back." another watery smile. "so i did."

Becky nodded.

"you did."

and she was still crying, still shaking, still not one hundred percent sure she wasn't dreaming. 

but when she leaned in to press her lips to Charlotte's again, none of it mattered. 

the only thing that mattered was that they were there, together. finally together, after all that time. 

and they had their whole lives ahead of them. 

they had a future, and the prospect had Becky so filled with euphoria that she had to break the kiss because of how hard she was grinning. 

Charlotte didn't seem to mind. 

she went with the shift. she lifted her hands; she used one to hold Becky's jaw and the other to brush the hair from Becky's forehead, to trail touches over the curves and contours of Becky's face. 

for a few moments, they sat there in silence, and then, seemingly simply because she could, Charlotte gave her another delicate kiss.

"it feels familiar," she said thoughtfully, when they separated. "kissing you does."

Becky's smile still couldn't be wiped away. it was the first time in a long time that the action felt natural and right in place. 

"it feels like last time," she replied, just as quietly. "but better."

Charlotte's eyebrows wrinkled together, just as Becky knew they would.

"last time? what do you mean?"

"the night when i ended up punching that jerk at the club, and you saw the bruises on my knuckles in the morning, we kissed. you had made me promise that i'd remind you if you didn't remember, but i was too scared, and i chickened out."

Charlotte was quiet for a few seconds after the confession. Becky started to worry that she might have even been mad, as Becky had been at herself for so long. 

but then the hushed statement of, “i thought that was a dream,” let her know that Charlotte was on a different train of thought. 

she felt faintly surprised herself. 

she lifted her eyes up, to the ceiling, to the powers that might have been up above. 

because it had taken them so long, along so many winding routes, when it could have been so simple. 

it really was all just a game to the universe, wasn't it? 

Becky's eyes fell back to connect with Charlotte's. 

"this is real," she promised. 

Charlotte nodded, with a sureness she'd been lacking over the past months. 

"i know."

"i'm yours, and you're mine."

"it's me and you. you and me," Charlotte reiterated Becky's utterance from earlier. "and we're living forever, remember?"

"right. and i promise i won't ever let you forget it again."

\---

_hold on, i still need you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we reached the end, and I gave you a happy resolution. Like I could ever end angst without happiness. Please.
> 
> I just wanted to thank every single person who has read this, and reviewed it, and given me kudos. You don't truly know how much it all means to me, to have such support and following. I appreciate it wholeheartedly. 
> 
> To my friends, who have listened to me complain about writer's block and shouted at me with each update, thank you. 
> 
> This story was the first one I ever published for this fandom, and I am so glad I came back to it and completed it.
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> my Tumblr is flairfatale


End file.
